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THE  ROMANCE 
OF    ROYALTY   . 

VOL.  1. 


,==..Acce^e<??        fV  y  -r.J  r/ 


/frf  . 


THE    ROMANCE 
„      OF   ROYALTX 

By     FITZGERALD     MOLLOY 

Author  of   "The    Sailor    King:    William    IV., 

his    Court   and   his   Subjects,"    "The    Queen's 

Comrade,"    "The    Most    Gorgeous    Lady 

.  Blessington,"  etc.  .  . 


■^ 


With  Sixteen  Portraits  and 
Two    Photogravure     Plates 


VOL.  I. 


NEW  YORK 

DODD    MEAD    &    COMPANY 

1904 


►i^ 


fi 


PRINTED  IN  GREAT  BRITAIN 


PREFACE 


ly  /T  ODERN  history  has  no  chapters  more  sur- 
^'-*-  prising  in  their  vicissitudes,  more  entertaining 
in  their  revelations  of  human  nature,  than  those 
included  in  the  following  pages.  Such  swift  transi- 
tions, strange  adventures,  and  moving  tragedies, 
related  of  ordinary  mortals,  would  give  their 
biographies  a  fascination  that  is  raised  to  intensity 
when  the   persons  concerned  are  Sovereign  rulers. 

Placed  high  above  us,  on  a  stage  as  it  were,  under 
fierce  lights,  and  with  the  world  for  an  audience, 
their  words  and  actions,  which  moulded  the  destinies 
of  nations  and  left  indelible  traces  on  their  time, 
must  be  listened  to  and  watched  with  abiding  interest. 
Though  these  volumes  contain  the  life  dramas  of  four 
Sovereigns,  each  may  be  considered  a  counterpart  of 
the  other,  all  giving    a  history  of   our    neighbouring 


VI  .  preface 

countries,  closely  connected   at  points  with  our  own, 
during  recent  and  critical  periods. 

The  dramas  are  written  in  a  personal  and  intimate 
manner,  intended  to  bring  the  ordinary  fallible 
reader  into  touch  with  those  who,  though  filling  the 
world's  high  places,  were  human  to  the  core. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

VOL.    I. 

QUEKN  CRISTINA Photogravure  frontispiece 

Facing  pcige 
KING   LUDVVIG    II.   OF   BAVARIA 8 

RICHARD   WAGNER,    1882 92 

THE   EMPRESS  OF   AUSTRIA    IN   COURT   DRESS 122 

SOPHIE  CHARLOTTE,   DUCHESSE   D'ALEN^ON I36 

QUEEN  ISABEL  II.  OF  SPAIN 1 52 

THE   INFANTA   FERNANDA,    DUCHESSE   DE   MONTPENSIER     ....  168 

DON   ENRIQUE 232 

COUNTESS    DE    MONTIJO 3O4 


Vll 


CONTENTS 

VOL.  I. 


THE    ROMANCE    OF    A    MAD    MONARCH 


CHAPTER  I 

Ludwig's  Birth  and  his  Grandfather's  Abdication — The  Training 
of  Princes — The  Heir  to  the  Crown  becomes  an  Apprentice 
to  a  Stonemason — Ludwig's  IndividuaHty — Dislike  to  Ughness 
— A  Dreamer  and  a  Poet — His  Father's  Last  Days — Ludwig 
as  King — Wagner  is  Summoned  to  Bavaria — The  Composer's 
Early  Days — His  Ambition  and  Egotism — The  Bitter  Struggles 
of  his  Married  Life — His  Experience  of  London — Crosses  to 
France — Interview  with  Meyerbeer — Starving  in  Paris — First 
Success  followed  by  Failure — Separation  from  his  Wife — The 
Princess  Metternich  Recommends  him  to  Napoleon — The 
Emperor  Orders  a  Representation  of  Tannhdnser — Wonderful 
Preparations — Wrangles  and  Disappointments — The  Jockey 
Club  and  the  Ballet — A  Memorable  First  Night — Wagner 
is  Overwhelmed  by  Opposition — Leaves  France  and  Seeks 
Refuge  at  Mariafeld— Humoured  by  his  Hostess — Days  of 
Darkness — Fear  of  Creditors — He  is  Differently  Organised 
from  Others — Now  there  is  a  Dark  Void — Letter  Regarding 
his  Wife — Draining  the  Cup  of  Sorrow — King  Ludwig's 
Interest  in  Wagner — His  Majesty's  Delight  in  Spectacular 
Drama  and  Love  of  Folk-Lore — He  Sends  for  Wagner 

ix 


Contents 


CHAPTER    II 


PAGE 


Wagner  Reaches  the  Castle  of  Berg — His  First  Interview  with 
Ludwig— Extravagant  Estimate  of  the  Impression  he  has 
Made — Near  him  am  I  to  Abide — Change  in  Wagner's 
Circumstances — The  March  of  Homage — Frau  von  Bulow — 
Wagner  Remembers  a  Dream — The  Heavenly  Prodigy  of 
Youth — First  Production  of  Tristan — The  Courtiers  Dislike 
Wagner — Agitation  Against  him — His  Reply  to  his  Enemies 
— A  Supreme  Egotist — Ministers  Demand  his  Dismissal — The 
Populace  Gather  Round  the  Palace — Ludvvig's  Reply  to  them 
— Wagner  is  Forced  to  Leave  Munich — Hears  of  his  Wife's 
Death — Settles  on  the  Borders  of  Bavaria — Is  Visited  by  the 
King — The  Experiences  of  CatuUe  Mendes — Wagner's  Letters 
to  his  Dressmaker — The  King's  Projected  Marriage — Exten- 
sive Preparations — His  Majesty  Outrages  the  Composer — 
Wagner  Graciously  Pardons  him — The  King's  Marriage  is 
Broken  off— First  Production  of  the  Meistersinger — Un- 
friendly Criticisms — The  King's  Winter  Garden — The  Designs 
of  a  Prima  Donna — Frau  von  Bulovv's  Marriage  is  Dissolved 
— She  Marries  Wagner— Franz  Liszt  Takes  Minor  Orders     .      43 


CHAPTER    III 

The  King's  Increasing  Eccentricities — A  Crown  of  Scorpions — 
Terrible  Dreams — Seeking  Escape — The  Crown  Prince  of 
Prussia — The  Kaiser  March — The  Bayreuth  Opera-House — 
Wagner's  Interpretation  of  a  Storm — Laying  the  Foundation 
Stone  of  the  Opera-House — Disappointments  and  Vexations 
Regarding  his  New  Undertaking — His  House  at  Bayreuth — 
Preparations  for  the  Performances  of  the  Nibelung  Ring 
Operas — Wagner's  Speech  at  their  Close — He  Awaits  a 
Crowning  Abomination — His  London  Concerts — The  Painting 
of  his  Portrait — Crushed  by  Debt — Helped  by  his  Royal 
Patron — The  King's  Mania  for  Building — A  Castle  in  the  Air 
— The  Splendours  of  Linderhof — An  Island  Palace — Prince 
Otto  becomes  Insane — The  King  Shrinks  from  Humanity — 
Fears  a  Madman — Private  Performances  in  the  Court  Theatre 
— Ludvvig's  Extravagant  Generosity — A  Royal  Pair — Flying 
Through  the  Night — His  Reverence  for  Marie  Antoinette       .       ']^ 


Contents  *» 


CHAPTER    IV 


PAGE 


The  King  Refuses  to  see  Wagner — The  First  Performance  of 
Parsifal — Wagner  and  his  Family  Start  for  Venice — Life  in 
the  Vendramin  Palace — Wagner's  Sudden  Death — The  King's 
Sorrow — A  Midnight  Journey  to  the  Composer's  Resting- 
place — Ludwig  Holds  Seances — His  Feehngs  towards  the 
Crown  Prince  Frederick — The  King's  Extravagance — Seeks 
Loans  from  Foreign  Powers — The  Only  Joy  of  his  Life — 
Strange  Punishments  Inflicted  on  his  Servants — Communi- 
cates with  his  Ministers  through  the  Keyhole— Surrounded 
by  Shadow  Forms — Project  for  Deposing  Him — Inquiry  into 
his  Condition — His  Uncle,  Prince  Luitpold,  Proclaimed 
Regent — Disapproval  of  the  King's  Subjects — Bismarck's 
Help  is  Asked — The  Chancellor's  Advice — Ludwig  Defends 
Himself — Commissioners  and  Doctors  are  Sent  to  the 
Dungeons — Intent  on  Suicide — In  the  Hands  of  Keepers — 
At  the  Castle  of  Berg— An  Eventful  Sunday  Evening — Sought 
and  Found — The  Empress  of  Austria  dreams  of  the  King — 
Grief  of  the  People— Last  Scene  of  All 104 


II 

THE    TRAGEDY    OF    THE    DUCHESSE    D'ALEN(j:ON 

CHAPTER    I 

Duke  Maximilian  of  Bavaria — The  Duchess  Ludovica — Happy 
Children — The  Strange  Fate  of  Five  Sisters — Prediction  of  a 
Bavarian  Gypsy — The  Princess  Sophie  as  Queen-Elect — The 
King  of  Bavaria  Breaks  his  Engagement — Supposed  Reasons 
for  his  Action — The  Princess  Sophie  Marries  Ferdinand, 
Due  d'Alen9on — Her  Hatred  of  Ceremony  and  Convention— 
Among  the  Woods  at  Vincennes — A  Superb  Trio  of  Beautiful 
Women — Intends  to  Sue  for  a  Divorce — Alarm  of  the  Orleans 
Family — The  Due  de  Nemours'  Arguments — His  Daughter- 
in-Law's  Rephes— The  Duke  has  Doubts  of  her  Sanity— The 
Opinion  of  a  Doctor — The  Duchess  is  Sent  to  a  Sanatorium 
— The  Efforts  of  a  Dominican  Friar — A  Change  of  Opinion 
Shows  Recovery — Marriage  of  her  Children — Devotion  to  the 


xii  Contetita 


PAGE 


Poor — The  Charity  Bazaar  in  the  Rue  Jean  Goujon — A 
BriUiant  Scene — A  Cry  of  Fire — A  Huge  Brazier — The 
Duchess's  Presence  of  Mind — Her  Resolve  to  Remain  Until 
Others  were  Saved — The  Last  Sight  she  Saw — Terrible 
Scenes— The  End  of  All 129 


III 

THE    STORY    OF    ISABEL    II.    OF    SPAIN 

CHAPTER    I 

A  Memorable  Sunday  in  Madrid — Hopes  and  Fears  of  the  People 
— Prayers  for  a  Male  Heir  to  the  Crown — Fernando  VTI.  and 
his  Fourth  Wife — A  Determined  Woman — Abolition  of  the 
Salic  Law  in  Spain — Resentment  of  Don  Carlos — Crowds 
Gather  Round  the  Palace — Scene  in  the  Queen's  Anteroom 
— Awaiting  a  Momentous  Event — The  King's  Calmness — The 
Birth  of  a  Princess — The  King's  Illness — He  Restores  the 
Salic  Law — The  Queen's  Influence  over  her  Consort — The 
Destruction  of  a  Deed — The  Infant  Princess  receives  the 
Oaths  of  Allegiance  from  the  Grandees — The  King's  Death 
— Two  Monarchs  are  Proclaimed — The  Horrors  of  Civil 
War — How  it  came  to  a  Close — Queen  Cristina  and  the 
Guardsman — Her  Majesty  Quits  the  Kingdom^ — Attempt  to 
Kidnap  the  Little  Queen — Cristina  is  Permitted  to  Return — 
Isabel  begins  her  Reign  at  the  Age  of  Thirteen — Lord 
Malmesbury's  Account  of  her  Prime  Minister — She  is 
Charged  with  Falsehood  in  the  Cortes — Her  Personal  Ap- 
pearance— The  Question  of  her  Marriage — The  Right  Hon. 
Henry  Lytton  Bulwer — Louis  Philippe  desires  Isabel  to 
Marry  one  of  his  Sons — The  English  Government  Objects — 
Lord  Palmerston's  Views  on  the  Alliance — Various  Candi- 
dates— Don  Francisco  de  Assisi — The  Semblance  of  a  Man — 
Announcement  of  the  Royal  Marriages— The  Correspondence 
of  Queen  Isabel  with  Queen  Victoria — Louis  Philippe's 
Breach  of  Faith — The  English  Sovereign  Writes  Him  a 
"  Tickler  " — Lord  Palmerston  Wishes  to  Prevent  the  Marriage 
— The  French  Princes  Arrive  at  Madrid— The  Enghsh 
Ambassador  is  Waited  on  by  a  Polite  Criminal — Celebration 
of  the  Double  Marriages — External  Signs  of  Rejoicing  .        .     145 


Contents  xiii 


CHAPTER    II 


PAGE 


The  Result  of  the  Young  Queen's  Marriage— The  Handsomest 
Man  in  Spain — He  is  Politely  Known  as  "  The  Influence  " — 
Her  Mother  Quits  Spain— Her  Husband  Leaves  the  Palace 
— A  Notorious  Court — Attempt  to  get  rid  of  General  Serrano 
— Lord  Palmerston  Regards  Isabel  with  Interest^Poison 
Preferable  to  Scandal — The  Favourite  gives  place  to  a 
Successor — Lord  Malmesbury's  Account  of  the  Spanish 
Court — An  Opera-Singer  Arrested  and  Banished — The  New 
Favourite — General  Narvaez  Attempts  to  Bring  Order  to  the 
Court — The  English  Ambassador  is  Given  his  Passports — 
Birth  of  Queen  Isabel's  First  Child — Birth  of  her  Second 
Child — Returning  Thanks  at  the  Church  of  the  Atocha — 
Attempted  Assassination  of  the  Queen — Wild  Scene — The 
Lunatic's  Execution — Reasons  of  the  Queen's  Popularity — 
Her  Devotion  during  Holy  Week — Ceremony  of  Washing 
the  Feet — Fall  of  General  Narvaez — Birth  of  Another  Child 
— A  Revolution  Breaks  Out — Palaces  Wrecked  and  Barri- 
cades Erected — Death  to  Cristina — The  Queen-Mother  takes 
Refuge  in  the  Royal  Palace — The  Reign  of  Terror  in  Madrid 
— Ministers  Hide — Fear  of  the  French  Ambassador — Isabel 
Commends  the  Work  of  the  Mob — Espartero  is  sent  for — 
His  Envoy  waits  on  her  Majesty — Scene  in  the  Royal  Palace 
— Isabel  Resolves  to  Abdicate — She  Changes  her  Mind — 
Espartero,  Due  de  Vittoria,  arrives  in  Madrid  and  Restores 
Order — The  Populace  Waits  and  Watches  for  Cristina — How 
she  Left  Madrid — Anger  of  the  People i8i 


CHAPTER    III 

The  Queen  Conspires  against  her  Prime  Minister — Metternich's 
Description  of  her  Majesty — The  Downfall  of  Isabel — Her 
New  Favourite,  Carlos  Marfori — The  Romance  of  a  Strolling 
Player — The  Queen's  Children — The  Workings  of  a  Revolu- 
tion— The  Due  de  Montpensier's  Palace  at  Seville — His 
Intrigues  for  the  Spanish  Crown — Banished  from  the  Country 
— Isabel  Leaves  the  Capital — Revolt  of  the  Army  and  Navy — 
The  Favourite's  Dismissal  is  Demanded— Hesitation  and 
Anger — The  Royal  Troops  are  Overcome — Flight  from  Spain 


xiv  Contents 


PfcGE 


— Interview  with  the  Emperor  and  Empress  of  the  French 
at  the  Biarritz  Railway  Station — Candidates  for  the  Vacant 
Throne — The  Career  of  Don  Enrique — His  Hatred  and  Abuse 
of  Montpensier — Their  Duel  to  the  Death — Montpensier's 
Sorrow  and  Remorse — The  King  Consort  and  his  Nephew — 
Queen  Isabel  Removes  to  Paris — Quarrel  of  the  Royal 
Couple — Her  Majesty  Formally  Abdicates  in  Favour  of  her 
Son — Amadeo,  Duke  of  Aosta,  is  Elected  King  of  Spain — 
Assassination  of  General; Prim — The  New  Sovereign  Enters 
Madrid — Attitude  of  the  Spanish  People  Towards  him — An 
Attempt  upon  his  Life — He  Determines  to  Abdicate — His 
Farewell  Address  to  the  Nation— His  Departure  from  Madrid     221 


CHAPTER    IV 

Isabel's  Desire  to  See  her  Son  on  the  Throne  still  Ungratified— 
The  Republic  of  Spain— The  Queen  and  her  Old  Friend 
General  Serrano— The  Youth  of  Alfonso  XII. — Movement  in 
his  Favour— He  is  Proclaimed  King— Joy  and  Excitement  at 
the  Hotel  Basilewsky— At  the  New  Opera  House,  Paris- 
Alfonso's  Return  to  Spain— Hopes  of  his  Subjects— Queen 
Isabel  Among  her  Former  Subjects— The  Downfall  of  Carlos 
Marfori— The  Project  of  the  King's  Marriage — Opposition  of 
his  Subjects  and  Anger  of  his  Mother— Isabel  Returns  to 
Paris  and  Intrigues  with  Don  Carlos — Dines  with  the  Pre- 
tender and  Two  of  his  Generals— Indignation  in  Spain — 
Orders  Received  by  the  Spanish  Embassy — Don  Carlos  is 
Obliged  to  Quit  France— Impotent  Excuses  of  Isabel— She 
is  Prevented  from  Attending  her  Son's  Marriage — The 
Magnificence  of  the  Bridal  Procession— Happiness  of  the 
Royal  Couple — The  Sudden  Illness  of  Queen  Mercedes — Her 
Parents  are  Summoned  in  Haste — Her  Unwillingness  to  Die 
—Grief  of  the  King— His  Majesty's  Second  Marriage— The 
Archduchess  Maria  Christina  of  Austria— The  King's  Anxiety 
for  the  W^elfare  of  his  Country — His  Active  Sympatliy  with 
the  Sufferers  from  Earthquake  and  Plague— Steals  away 
from  the  Capital  to  the  Afflicted  People— The  State  of  his 
Health— Unexpected  News  of  his  Death — Birth  of  the  Present 
King  of  Spain— Isabel  and  her  Husband— Death  of  the  King 
Consort  and  of  Carlos  Marfori 257 


Contents  xv 

IV 
THE    ROMANCE    OF    THE    SECOND    EMPIRE 


CHAPTER    I 


PAGB 


William  Kirkpatrick,  Grandfather  of  the  Empress  Eugenie — His 
Three  Daughters  and  their  Husbands — Don  Cipriano,  Comte 
de  Teba,  Father  of  Eugenie — His  Marriage  and  its  Results — 
He  becomes  Comte  de  Montijo — His  Vivacious  Wife— Her 
Travels  to  Europe  and  Meeting  with  Prosper  Merim^e — The 
Marriage  of  his  Elder  Daughter — A  Man  who  had  been 
Buried  before  he  was  Born — The  Countess  holds  a  Confi- 
dential Post  at  the  Court  of  Isabel — In  Paris  once  more — 
Introduction  to  Napoleon — The  Approach  to  the  Throne  of 
France — Napoleon  is  Elected  Emperor — He  is  Recognised 
by  England — The  Comtesse  de  Teba  Offers  him  her  Fortune 
— Devotion  of  the  Princess  Mathilde  to  her  Cousin — Her 
Marriage  and  its  Sequel — Lord  Malmesbury's  Description  of 
her  Appearance  at  a  Fancy  Ball — Miss  Howard  and  Napoleon 
— Her  Substantial  Aid — Napoleon  in  Search  of  a  Wife — The 
Courts  of  Europe  Unwilling  to  Furnish  him  with  a  Consort — 
His  Proposal  for  the  Princess  Adelaide  of  Hohenlohe^ — Queen 
Victoria  Discusses  the  Subject  with  her  Foreign  Minister — A 
Dramatic  Incident  Leads  to  the  Emperor's  Proposal  to 
Eugenie  de  Teba — Opposition  to  the  Marriage — Napoleon's 
Determination 293 


I 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  MAD  MONARCH 


VOL.  I, 


CHAPTER    I 

Ludvvig's  Birth  and  his  Grandfather's  Abdication — The  Training  of 
Princes — The  Heir  to  the  Crown  becomes  an  Apprentice  to  a 
Stonemason — Lndwig's  IndividuaHty — Dislike  to  Ughness — A 
Dreamer  and  a  Poet — His  Father's  Last  Days — Ludwig  as  King — 
Wagner  is  Summoned  to  Bavaria — The  Composer's  Early  Days — 
His  Ambition  and  Egotism — The  Bitter  Struggles  of  his  Married 
Life — His  Experience  of  London — Crosses  to  France — Interview 
with  Meyerbeer — Starving  in  Paris — First  Success  followed  by 
Failure — Separation  from  his  Wife — The  Princess  Metternich 
Recommends  him  to  Napoleon — The  Emperor  Orders  a  Repre- 
sentation of  Tannhimser — Wonderful  Preparations — Wrangles  and 
Disappointments — The  Jockey  Club  and  the  Ballet — A  Memorable 
First  Night — Wagner  is  Overwhelmed  by  Opposition — Leaves 
France  and  Seeks  Refuge  at  Mariafeld — Humoured  by  his 
Hostess — Days  of  Darkness— Fear  of  Creditors — He  is  Differently 
Organised  from  Others — Now  there  is  a  Dark  Void — Letter 
Regarding  his  Wife — Draining  the  Cup  of  Sorrow — King  Ludwig's 
Interest  in  Wagner — His  Majesty's  Delight  in  Spectacular  Drama 
and  Love  of  Folk-Lore — He  Sends  for  Wagner. 

ALL  Bavaria  regarded  as  a  golden  day  that  which 
gave  an  heir  to  its  Crown  Prince  Maximilian. 
The  year  was  1845,  the  exact  date  August  25th,  which 
was  not  only  the  feast  of  St.  Ludwig  or  Louis,  but 
the  birthday  of  the  ruling  Sovereign,  Ludwig  \.  ; 
facts  that  to  the  searchers  for  signs  and  omens  seemed 
of  importance.  Water  from  the  river  Jordan  cleansed 
the  new-born    from    original    sin,    monarchs    acted   as 

3 


4  Xlbe  IRoinancc  ot  K^o^alt^ 

his  sponsors  ;  he  was  baptised  Ludwig,  and  given  as 
his  patron  and  example  the  royal  saint  of  that 
name. 

He  had  been  but  three  years  in  the  world  when  he 
advanced  a  step  nearer  to  the  throne  he  was  eventually 
to  occupy;  for  in  1848  his  grandfather,  Ludwig  I., 
abdicated.  An  enlightened  Sovereign,  a  poet,  linguist, 
and  traveller,  he  had  utilised  his  talent  for  architecture 
and  painting  in  beautifying  and  enriching  his  capital  ; 
for  to  him  Munich  owes  many  of  its  finest  buildings, 
including  its  splendid  art  gallery,  the  Glyptothek, 
containing  the  works  he  collected.  As  his  subjects 
considered  that  the  temperament  of  an  artist  was 
incompatible  with  that  of  a  ruler,  they  desired  him  to 
resign  his  crown,  their  wishes  on  this  point  becoming 
urgent  when  he  irretrievably  outraged  their  respectable 
feelings  by  transforming  the  dancer  Lola  Montez 
into  a  countess.  That  her  Irish  descent  and  Spanish 
birth  made  her  irresistibly  fascinating  to  his  amorous 
Majesty  was  no  excuse  in  their  reproving  eyes. 

Ludwig  L  was  succeeded  by  his  eldest  son, 
Maximilian,  a  man  of  nervous  temperament  and 
delicate  physique,  a  lover  of  art  and  architecture  like 
his  father,  something  of  a  philosopher,  a  patron  of 
science,  and  a  King  devoted  to  his  subjects,  who 
worshipped  him.  Desiring  to  be  their  friend  as  well 
as  ruler,  he  also  beautified  their  capital,  built  the 
National  Museum,  planned  its  handsomest  street,  and 


ZIbc  IRomance  ot  a  /iDa^  /Hbonarcb  5 

laid  out  its  public  gardens.  And  that  he  might  be 
more  in  touch  with  the  most  advanced  intellects  in  his 
kingdom,  he  held  weekly  meetings  in  the  Green 
Gallery  of  his  palace  to  which  they  were  invited,  and 
where,  after  they  had  supped  with  him,  he  listened 
to  and  took  part  in  discussions  on  art,  literature,  and 
science.  Such  a  man  was  likely  to  devote  great  care 
to  the  training  of  his  sons — Ludwig,  the  Crown  Prince, 
and  Otto,  a  year  younger  than  his  brother.  This 
care  was  shared  by  their  mother,  Queen  Maria, 
daughter  of  Prince  William  of  Prussia,  and  niece  of 
King  Frederick  William  III.,  a  loving  wife,  charitable 
and  kindly,  whose  subjects  called  her  "  an  angel 
of  God." 

Both  parents  agreed  in  thinking  that  their  boys 
should  be  reared  with  a  strictness,  simplicity,  and 
discipline  which  it  was  hoped  would  strengthen  their 
characters  and  teach  them  to  value  and  discreetly  use 
the  wealth  and  position  they  would  later  inherit. 
No  toys  of  any  kind  were  allowed  them,  and  the 
only  pocket-money  they  received  was  that  they  earned 
by  good  marks  for  industry  at  lessons,  while  idleness 
was  punished  by  fines.  At  times  their  need  of  money 
was  felt  so  keenly  by  them  that  the  younger  boy,  on 
hearing  a  sound  tooth  would  fetch  ten  florins,  took 
an  early  opportunity  to  escape  from  his  guardians, 
and  to  present  himself  to  a  dentist,  to  whom  he  offered 
two  complete  rows  of  teeth,  which  he  declared  were 


6  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^^alt^ 

of  no  use  to  him.  This  did  not  mean  that  he  was 
starved,  for  he  and  his  brother  were  allowed  at  least 
one  substantial  meal  a  day,  though  it  consisted  of  a 
single  dish  of  meat  and  cheese — a  frugality  that  led 
the  Crown  Prince,  when  he  came  of  age  and  was 
told  he  was  now  his  own  master,  to  declare  he  would 
henceforth  have  chicken  and  pudding  every  day  for 
dinner. 

Since  the  French  Revolution  had  shown  the  ease 
with  which  thrones  can  be  upset,  it  had  been  the 
custom  of  the  Royal  House  of  Prussia  to  teach  its 
princes  a  means  to  earn  their  bread.  As  a  daughter 
of  that  line,  the  Queen  decided  that  her  boys  should 
learn  a  trade,  that  of  a  carpenter  being  selected 
for  Prince  Otto,  while  Ludwig,  who  already  began 
to  show  his  hereditary  taste  for  architecture,  was 
initiated  into  the  art  of  building.  An  unsigned 
biographical  sketch  of  Ludwig  in  Temple  Bar^ 
written  shortly  after  his  death  from  information  given 
by  those  whose  position  was  a  guarantee  of  their 
knowledge,  tells  many  interesting  stories  of  his  youth, 
among  them  one  which  relates  that  for  a  whole 
fortnight  Ludwig  conscientiously  worked  under  a 
stonemason  who  was  building  a  coach-house  at  the 
palace  of  Nymphenburg.  At  the  end  of  that  time 
he  went  to  his  mother  and  told  her  his  apprentice- 
ship was  at  an  end,  for  he  could  lay  a  brick  as  neatly 
as  any  workman.     "  But   could  you  earn   your  living 


TLbc  IRomance  of  a  /IDa&  /llbonavcb  7 

at  the  trade  ? "  asked  her  Majesty,  smiling  at  his 
confident  air.  "  Make  my  living  at  it  ?  "  he  answered. 
"  Why,  I  could  make  my  fortune  at  it,  for  if  I  offered 
myself  as  a  bricklayer,  any  master-mason  would  be 
glad  to  take  me  into  partnership,  as  my  name  would 
bring  him  more  business  than  my  hands  could  do." 
His  distaste  for  work,  more  than  his  ingenious 
argument,  brought  him  relief  from  bricklaying  ;  but 
his  brother  continued  his  apprenticeship,  so  that 
watching  him  one  day  busy  at  his  lathe,  Ludwig  said 
to  his  mother,  "  There  is  Otto  taking  precautions 
against  the  time  when  the  world  will  be  turned  upside 
down.  When  princes  become  turners,  I  suppose 
Fritz  the  carpenter  will  be  a  king." 

From  the  first  Ludwig  made  it  clear  that  he 
possessed  a  strong  individuality  which,  as  its  traits  were 
uncommon,  seems  not  to  have  been  understood  by  his 
parents.  Highly  nervous,  he  was  supremely  sensitive 
and  fastidious,  and  had  an  insurmountable  repugnance 
to  the  sight  of  physical  suffering  or  malformations  ; 
while  his  abhorrence  of  ugliness  was  so  great  that  he 
habitually  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  when  those 
unfavoured  by  nature  entered  his  presence.  In  an 
endeavour  to  cure  him  of  this  weakness,  his  father 
selected  as  the  boy's  attendants  those  who  were  dis- 
tinguished for  their  plainness,  at  whose  approach 
Ludwig  would  resolutely  close  his  eyes,  or  hide  behind 
curtains  or    screens.      On   the   other  hand  a  sight    of 


8  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

sunrise  on  the  lonely  hills,  of  moonlight  on  sleeping 
woods,  entranced  him  ;  the  stillness  of  lakes  fell  as  a 
spell  upon  his  spirit  ;  and  for  hours  he  would  lie 
silently  face  upwards  to  the  sky,  watchful  of  drifting 
clouds,  and  striving  to  pierce  the  impenetrable  blue. 
And  once  at  least  he  was  traced  at  midnight  to  the 
churchyard  of  Berchtesgaden,  where  in  darkness  but 
without  dread,  he  sat  solitary  among  the  sleepers 
over  whom  he  had  come  to  keep  silent  watch,  and  to 
bear  them  company. 

A  poet  at  heart,  he  loved  poets,  and  read  Schiller, 
Goethe,  and  Uhland  with  such  appreciation  that  once, 
when  asked  to  commit  to  memory  some  lines  written 
by  his  grandfather  and  to  recite  them  on  his  Majesty's 
birthday,  he  refused  to  burden  his  mind  with  such 
verses  while  there  were  many  he  did  not  know  by 
the  great  men  whom  he  admired.  "  Grandpapa  is 
a  king,"  he  added  gravely,  "  but  he  is  not  a  poet." 
A  great  deal  of  the  shrinking  dread  of  publicity  he 
afterwards  showed  may  be  traced  to  the  seclusion 
in  which  he  was  reared  ;  for  he  and  his  brother 
were  not  permitted  to  attend  Court  festivities,  or  to 
walk  through  the  streets  of  the  capital,  or  to  figure 
at  public  ceremonies.  Occasionally  when  they  were 
taken  to  a  picture  gallery  or  museum,  it  was  in  the 
early  morning  and  in  a  closed  carriage ;  so  that 
Lud wig's  knowledge  of  his  future  subjects  was  gained 
chiefly  from  the   shy  glances   he  stole   at   them   from 


•^  ' 


KING    LUDWIG    II.    OK    BAVARIA. 


[Factiig page  S. 


Xlbe  IRomance  of  a  /ll^a^  /IDonarcb  9 

between  the  curtains  of  the  Royal  box  when  he  was 
allowed  to  attend  the  performance  of  an  opera  or 
a  tragedy. 

Never  mixing  with  crowds,  unfamiliar  with  the 
streets  of  Munich,  and  having  no  interest  in  public 
affairs,  his  days  were  chiefly  spent  in  the  Royal  castles, 
built  on  crags  overlooking  lakes,  surrounded  by  the 
most  romantic  scenery,  the  centre  and  home  of  legend 
and  myth.  The  folk-lore  that  told  of  goblin,  sprite, 
salamander,  or  gnome,  the  poetry  and  romance  of 
mediaeval  stories  dealing  with  strange  adventures  and 
valorous  deeds  of  knights  and  troubadours,  were  heard 
with  eagerness  and  delight  by  this  boy,  who  vitalised 
them  to  reality  by  the  magic  power  of  his  vivid 
imagination. 

His  nervous  dread  of  plain-featured  attendants 
was  also  shown  to  uncongenial  tutors,  who  had  the 
effect  of  numbing  his  faculties,  just  as  many  excellent 
persons  deplete,  depress,  and  unconsciously  freeze 
the  mental  life  of  their  more  sensitive  associates. 
Seeing  the  impression  which  the  magnetism  of  those 
surrounding  him  had  on  Ludwig,  his  mother  persuaded 
the  King  to  allow  the  boy  to  select  his  own  teachers  ; 
and  as  he  showed  an  unerring  intuitive  perception, 
this  permission  not  only  brought  him  happiness,  but 
helped  him  to  advance  rapidly  in  his  studies.  Later, 
this  intuitive  perception,  which  is  as  a  birthright  to  its 
possessor,  was  guided  and  strengthened  by  a  study  of 


lo  U\K  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

what  he  regarded  as  marked  indications  of  character  : 
the  shape  of  the  head  and  hands,  the  walk,  and  the 
handwriting.  In  view  of  his  relations  with  Wagner, 
it  will  be  considered  by  those  who,  while  admiring 
the  composer's  genius,  are  not  blind  to  his  faults, 
that  Ludwig's  intuitive  perceptions  were  not  evident. 
But  it  must  be  remembered  that  those  who  possess 
this  gift  are  most  sensitive  to  the  influence  of  others, 
and  that  the  strong  magnetism  exercised  by  Wagner 
on  all  he  encountered,  completely  overwhelmed  and 
triumphed  over  the  more  delicate  and  highly  strung 
organisation  of  this  lad  when  he  accepted  the  egotist 
at  his  own  valuation. 

The  studies  which  interested  Ludwig  most  were 
history  and  theology,  while  he  detested  mathematics 
and  poHtical  economy.  Though  he  disliked  dancing, 
which  he  described  as  "  all  confusion,  gasping,  and 
stamping  of  feet,"  he  learned  to  fence  gracefully, 
to  drill,  and  to  ride  well.  But  before  he  acquired 
skill  as  a  horseman,  his  daily  attendance  at  the  riding- 
school  was  an  ordeal  to  his  abnormally  sensitive  nature  ; 
for  he  dreaded  the  slightest  mishap  which  would 
amuse  others  at  his  expense.  Once  when  he  rolled 
off  his  horse  and  lay  in  the  sawdust,  his  military 
tutor,  Colonel  Heckel,  roared  at  the  sight,  when  the 
Prince  rising,  his  face  pale,  his  brows  meeting,  said 
with  dignity,  "  I  wish  you  would  teach  me  to  fall  in 
a  way  that  shall  not  be  comical.     There  ought  to  be 


Zbc  IRoinance  of  a  /iDab  /IDonarcb         n 

nothing  comical  in   an  accident  which  might  happen  to 
a   good   rider  before   a  hundred  thousand   men." 

One  of  his  tutors,  Dr.  Dollinger,  who  subsequently 
became  notable  for  his  opposition  to  the  dogma  of 
Papal  Infallibility,  says  that  Ludwig  delighted  to  talk 
of  grand  legions,  fields  of  glittering  bayonets,  fluttering 
banners,  and  all  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  war. 
But  though  such  pictures  of  glowing  pageantry  thrilled 
his  imagination,  as  did  military  music,  the  blare 
of  trumpets,  and  clashing  of  cymbals,  yet  he  could 
not  endure  the  sight  of  blood  or  firearms,  and  hated 
the  idea  of  warfare.  Later  in  life  he  said  that  if 
battles  were  to  be  fought  with  machines,  "  let  us  do 
our  worst  against  each  other  till  we  get  sick  of  carnage, 
and  come  back  to  the  time  when  nations  will  settle 
their  differences  by  choosing  each  its  champion  who 
will  fight  hand  to  hand." 

The  intention  of  sending  him  to  the  university  of 
Wurtzburg  was  postponed  because  of  the  failing 
health  of  his  father.  Placing  trust  and  hope  in  the 
boy,  who  was  grave  beyond  his  years,  and  clever  if 
eccentric,  the  King  began  to  instruct  him  in  affairs 
of  State  and  the  duties  of  a  ruler.  In  the  winter 
of  1863  it  became  more  and  more  evident  that 
Maximilian's  hold  on  life  was  loosening.  Acute 
headaches  were  followed  by  severe  prostration,  nervous- 
ness, and  melancholia.  His  manner  was  by  turns 
restless    and   apathetic,    his  appearance    ghastly,  and  it 


12  Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

was  whispered  that  he  had  shown  certain  symptoms 
of  mental  disturbance.  Change  of  scene,  freedom 
from  care,  and  a  milder  climate  were  recommended 
by  his  physicians,  and  in  the  hope  of  prolonging  his 
days  he  went  to  Italy.  The  death  of  Frederick  IV., 
King  of  Denmark,  without  direct  heirs,  and  the  suc- 
cession to  the  throne  of  that  country  of  Prince 
Christian  of  Holstein-Gliicksberg,  brought  about 
political  complications  which  it  was  feared  would  drag 
the  South  German  States  into  a  prolonged  war.  The 
absence  of  the  King  from  Bavaria,  the  head  of  these 
States,  left  its  Ministers  in  sore  perplexity  at  a  critical 
moment.  Though  it  was  known  that  his  return  to 
Bavaria  would  injure  his  Majesty's  health,  yet  there 
was  no  option  but  to  send  for  him.  Maximihan, 
on  his  side,  did  not  hesitate  to  leave  Rome,  where  he 
was  progressing,  and  to  hasten  back  to  Munich.  The 
vexations  that  followed,  and  the  keen  air  of  his  native 
climate,  had  the  effect  of  sapping  his  vitality. 

Relatives  came  to  see  and  to  say  farewell  to  him, 
but  none  thought  the  end  was  near  until,  as  a  chill 
and  gloomy  afternoon  in  March  closed  over  the  city, 
a  rumour  swiftly  passed  through  its  streets  that  his 
Majesty  was  dying.  As  the  citizens  loved  him  as 
a  personal  friend,  they  were  distracted  with  grief,  and 
slowly,  sadly,  through  the  deepening  night,  in  couples 
or  in  groups,  by  a  common  impulse  they  set  out 
for  the  palace.     Here  in  the  deep  shadow  of  its  bleak 


XTbe  IRoniance  of  a  /[C)aD  /iDonarcF)         13 

and  massive  front,  they  collected  in  a  dense  mass, 
watchful  of  the  lights  making  yellow  squares  in  its 
sombreness,  anxious  to  receive  some  sign,  to  hear 
some  news,  to  draw  near  their  King  in  the  dread 
moment  when  he  was  about  to  leave  them.  And 
so  kneeling  in  prayer  and  standing  by  turns,  drawing 
close  to  each  other  for  warmth  in  the  chill  hours, 
they  remained  unconscious  of  all  else  save  their  ap- 
proaching loss,  until  morning  came  with  drenching 
mists  and  dreary  skies.  One  by  one  the  lights  died 
out  of  the  palace  windows,  leaving  them  a  steely  grey  ; 
sentries  were  changed  ;  a  whisper  spread  that  Extreme 
Unction  had  been  administered  to  the  dying  man  ; 
but  it  was  not  until  near  mid-day  that  suddenly, 
solemnly,  striking  them  with  awe,  the  deep-voiced 
toll  of  a  bell  announced  that  Maximilian  was  dead. 
As  they  heard  it  all  fell  upon  their  knees  and  prayed 
for  his  soul. 

As  the  King  died  on  March  loth,  1864,  Ludwig 
came  to  the  throne  before  he  reached  his  nineteenth 
birthday.  With  the  loyalty  of  their  race,  and  their 
affection  for  his  family,  his  subjects  readily  transferred 
to  the  new  Sovereign  the  love  they  had  borne  to  his 
father.  Ludwig's  youth,  his  reputation  for  cleverness 
and  goodness,  together  with  his  personal  appearance, 
appealed  to  them.  For  he  was  strikingly  handsome. 
His  face  was  clear  and  colourless,  with  thick  black 
hair   waving   above   a   wide    imaginative  forehead,  its 


14  Ul)c  K^omance  of  IRo^alt^ 

features  delicately  cut  and  expressing  dignity;  but 
its  chief  attraction  lay  in  the  eyes,  large,  grey,  and 
luminous,  of  impenetrable  depths,  magnetic,  with  the 
indescribable  plaintiveness  of  one  set  apart,  veritable 
windows  through  which  were  caught  sudden  and 
bewildering  glimpses  of  a  distraught  soul.  Added 
to  this,  his  figure  was  tall,  slim,  and  graceful  ;  his 
manner  gentle  and  restrained  ;  his  voice  clear  and 
sympathetic. 

His  Ministers,  who  from  the  seclusion  in  which 
he  had  been  reared  knew  little  of  his  character,  were 
concerned  as  to  whether  or  not  he  had  the  abilities 
of  a  ruler,  but  at  first  all  promised  well.  Turning 
from  the  solitude  dear  to  him,  he  devoted  himself  to 
the  interests  of  his  little  kingdom.  Two  days  after  his 
father's  death  he  took  the  oath  to  the  Constitution,  and 
in  an  address  to  the  Ministers  and  Councillors  of  State 
assured  them  that  his  endeavours  should  be  directed 
to  preserve  the  glory  and  well-being  of  his  faithful 
people.  Every  morning  he  spent  an  hour  in  hearing 
political  correspondence  read  and  in  signing  documents. 
At  any  time  of  the  day  he  was  willing  to  preside 
at  Councils  ;  he  received  ambassadors  with  captivating 
grace  of  manner  ;  and  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart  he 
found  it  impossible  to  refuse  pardon,  pensions,  and 
promotions  to  those  who  asked  for  them.  That  his 
good  nature  should  be  taken  advantage  of  was 
inevitable,  as  was   proved  one  day   when  as    he  rode 


Ube  IRomance  of  a  /in)a&  /nbonavcb         is 

through  the  streets,  a  miserable  woman  flung  herself  at 
his  horses'  feet  and  waiHngly  besought  her  husband's 
liberation.  Unable  to  endure  the  sight  of  pain,  he 
granted  what  she  asked  without  inquiry,  and  only 
afterwards  learned  he  had  freed  a  fraudulent  rascal, 
sentenced  to  a  long  term  of  imprisonment.  But 
though  his  Ministers  protested  and  threatened  to 
resign  if  he  kept  his  word,  the  King  would  not  break 
it,  and  the  man  was  released.  It  was  then  that  his 
mother,  to  whom  he  was  at  this  time  devoted,  and  who 
had  considerable  influence  over  him,  persuaded  him  to 
leave  to  his  Ministers  the  cares  and  responsibility  of 
governing  until  years  had  brought  him  more  ex- 
perience. 

Willing  to  take  an  advice  that  freed  him  from  much 
that  was  distasteful,  he  turned  to  spectacles  and  cere- 
monies that  appealed  to  his  taste.  Therefore  he 
ordered  a  grand  review,  when,  wearing  the  brilliant 
uniform  of  a  general,  with  plumed  helmet  and  gold 
spurs,  his  breast  covered  with  decorations,  he  rode 
into  the  Field  of  Mars,  mounted  on  a  white  charger, 
surrounded  by  his  generals,  and  almost  deafened  by  the 
ringing  cheers  of  his  subjects,  and  there  watched  the 
glittering  lines  of  troops  pass  through  their  manoeuvres. 
And  later,  when  a  June  sun  blazed  in  a  cloudless  sky,  and 
to  celebrate  the  feast  of  Corpus  Christi  the  streets  were 
hung  with  tapestries,  decorated  with  garlands,  spanned 
by  arches  of  scented  pine,  and  strewn  with  leaves  of 


i6  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRoi^alt^ 

flowers  and  plants,  the  King  walked  bare-headed  and 
reverent  behhid  the  Host,  carried  by  the  Archbishop 
under  a  canopy  of  cloth  of  gold,  followed  by  princes, 
Ministers  of  State  and  Councillors,  chanting  friars, 
confraternities,  banner-bearing  guilds,  and  the  fantas- 
tically dressed  populace  from  the  mountains  who  had 
poured  into  the  capital  to  take  devotional  part  in  this 
gorgeous  pageant. 

Before  the  summer  ended  Ludwig  acted  as  host  to 
one  of  the  few  women  in  whom  he  had  ever  shown 
any  interest.  This  was  his  cousin  Elizabeth,  Empress 
of  Austria,  who  ten  years  his  senior,  had  married 
when  he  was  a  boy  of  nine.  As  she  had  been  reared 
in  the  castle  of  Possenhofen,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Munich,  Ludwig  had  spent  many  days  with  his 
cousins  when  a  child.  Among  them  Elizabeth  was 
his  favourite.  Alike  in  temperament,  the  tastes  he 
later  developed  bore  a  striking  resemblance  to  hers, 
and  through  life  the  strongest  sympathy  existed 
between  these  unhappy  mortals.  But  during  the  visit 
paid  by  their  Imperial  Majesties  to  Munich,  when 
magnificent  banquets  were  given  to  them,  and  state 
performances  at  the  opera  attended,  when  the  streets 
blazed  with  illuminations  at  night,  and  were  thronged 
by  cheering  citizens  by  day,  no  shadow  of  the  tragedies 
that  were  to  end  the  lives  of  the  Empress  and  the 
King  darkened  this  hour  of  their  pleasure. 

Before  this  time,  indeed  when  he  had  been  but  two 


XTbe  IRomance  ot  a  /iHjaD  /IDonarcb         17 

months  on  the  throne,  Ludwig  had  summoned  to 
his  Court  a  man  whose  magnetic  personality  was 
destined  to  exercise  an  extraordinary  influence  over  his 
mind.  This  individual  was  Richard  Wagner,  now 
generally  acknowledged  as  the  greatest  dramatic  com- 
poser the  world  has  produced,  but  who  at  this  time 
was  commonly  considered  by  musicians  as  little  better 
than  an  audacious  lunatic.  To  understand  the  tem- 
perament of  this  giant  among  men,  who  was  capable 
of  dominating  the  most  erratic,  least  tractable  of 
monarchs  ;  who  brought  a  loyal  and  peaceful  kingdom 
to  the  verge  of  revolution  ;  and  who  unaided,  changed 
the  conception  and  standard  of  his  art,  a  glance  must 
be  taken  at  his  beginnings. 

The  youngest  child  of  a  chief  of  police  in  Leipzig, 
William  Richard  Wagner  entered  the  world  on  which 
he  was  to  leave  an  indefectible  mark,  on  May  22nd, 
1 8 13,  just  six  months  previous  to  his  father's  death. 
Within  a  year  of  that  event  Frau  Wagner,  the  thrifty 
,  mother  of  seven  children  depending  on  a  small  pension, 
married  Ludwig  Geyer,  who  was  not  only  remarkable 
for  a  generosity  that  provided  for  his  wife's  family, 
but  for  the  variety  of  his  talents  ;  he  being  a  portrait- 
painter  sufficiently  skilful  to  merit  the  patronage  of 
Royalty,  a  clever  actor  permanently  engaged  at  the 
Dresden  theatre,  a  playwright  whose  comedies  were 
frequently  performed,  and  an  opera-singer.  On  her 
marriage  his  wife  and  her  children  moved  to  Dresden. 

VOL.  I.  2 


1 8  Zbc  IRomancc  of  IRo^alt^ 

Deeply  interested  in  their  welfare,  Ludwig  Geyer 
helped  to  shape  their  future  careers.  Two  of  the 
girls  became  distinguished  actresses,  while  their  eldest 
brother  Albert  was  well  known  as  a  singer,  player,  and 
stage  manager. 

Indications  of  talent  shown  by  Richard,  but  as  yet 
uncertain  in  their  direction,  led  his  stepfather  to 
expect  great  achievements  from  the  lad,  to  whom  he 
gave  lessons  in  drawing,  the  human  eye  being  selected 
as  a  subject.  But  with  that  indomitable  belief  in  self, 
that  vaulting  ambition  characteristic  of  him  from  the 
first,  without  which  he  would  never  have  attained  his 
future  greatness,  Richard  was  impatient  and  disdainful 
of  such  petty  technicalities,  his  wish  being  to  paint 
life-sized  portraits  such  as  his  stepfather  had  produced 
of  the  King  of  Saxony.  He  was  also  taught  music, 
but  before  he  had  mastered  the  five-finger  exercise, 
he  attempted  to  play  the  Der  Freischiitz  overture  by 
ear,  and  on  being  surprised  at  it  one  day  by  his  teacher, 
was  assured  he  "  would  never  amount  to  anything." 
In  his  brief  autobiographical  sketch,  Wagner  declared 
his  master  was  right,  adding,  "  I  never  did  learn  to 
play  the  piano." 

He  continued  however  to  amuse  himself  at  that 
instrument,  playing  only  for  himself,  as  he  tells  us  ; 
overtures,  strummed  with  atrocious  fingering,  being  his 
favourites.  He  owns  his  inability  to  play  a  scale 
correctly,  and  adds,  "  I  conceived  a  great  aversion  to 


XTbe  IRomancc  of  a  /in)a&  /IRonarcb  19 

all  rapid  passages.  Of  Mozart  I  liked  only  the  over- 
ture to  The  Magic  Flute  ;  Don  Juan  I  disliked  because 
it  was  composed  to  an  Italian  text,  which  seemed  to 
me  so  silly."  Besides  overtures,  he  had  learned  two 
airs  from  T)er  Freisckiitz,  and  on  the  melancholy  and 
memorable  day  before  his  stepfather's  death  Richard 
was  asked  to  play  these  to  the  dying  man,  who  lay 
passive  and  heedful  in  the  semi-darkness  of  an  adjoin- 
ing room.  When  the  last  notes  of  the  piano  had 
ceased,  Ludwig  Geyer's  faint  voice  broke  the  heavy 
silence  that  followed,  to  express  a  hope  that  after  all 
the  boy  had  some  talent  for  music.  Early  next 
morning,  when  all  was  over  for  that  kindly  man,  his 
sorrowing  widow  went  into  the  children's  sleeping- 
room  to  give  each  some  loving  word  he  had  spoken  of 
them  ;  that  she  said  to  Richard  being,  "  He  hoped  to 
make  something  of  you "  ;  a  saying  that  impressed 
the  boy  then  in  his  eighth  year,  for  he  states  that  for 
a  long  time  he  imagined  "  that  something  indeed 
would  come  of  him." 

That  he  was  to  distinguish  himself  as  a  musician 
might  have  been  foreseen,  not  so  much  from  his 
playing,  as  from  his  intense  love  of  music  and  his 
reverence  for  the  famous  composer  Carl  von  Weber, 
who  was  then  director  of  the  Dresden  opera.  When 
occasionally  the  author  of  Der  Freischiitz^  a  quaint 
figure  in  rusty  black,  with  round  shoulders  and 
bowed  legs,  passed   Ludwig    Geyer's   house,   Richard 


20  Ube  IRomance  of  IRoyalti? 

would  call  his  youngest  sister  to  the  window,  saying  : 
*'  Look  there,  that  is  the  greatest  man  in  the  world  ; 
how  great  he  is  you  cannot  understand."  To  hear 
Weber  conduct  his  operas  was  a  privilege  the  boy 
valued,  and  on  account  of  his  stepfather's  position  as 
a  tenor,  frequently  enjoyed  ;  but  when  as  a  punish- 
ment he  was  deprived  of  this  pleasure,  he  would 
stand  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  his  eyes  fixed  mourn- 
fully on  the  clock,  saying,  while  sobs  nearly  choked 
him,  "  Now  they  are  giving  this  ;  now  that  is  being 
sung,"  naming  the  parts  of  the  opera  then  being 
performed. 

For  a  while  his  attention  was  diverted  from  music 
to  Greek  history  and  mythology,  which  induced  him 
at  the  age  of  thirteen  to  translate  the  first  twelve 
books  of  Homer's  Odyssey^  and  to  write  a  couple 
of  dramas  founded  on  Grecian  models  and  destined 
to  influence  the  wonderful  conceptions  he  was  later 
to  place  upon  the  stage.  He  also  learned  English, 
chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  being  able  to  read 
Shakespeare  in  the  original.  This  led  him  to  write 
a  grandiose  tragedy,  in  the  course  of  which  no  less 
than  forty-two  persons  died  unnatural  deaths,  but 
as  they  left  the  plot  unfinished,  their  creator  was 
compelled  to  raise  their  ghosts,  and  reintroduce  them 
so  that  they  might  continue  and  conclude  the  strange 
eventful  history  in  which  they  had  been  unhappily 
concerned. 


trbe  IRomauce  ot  a  /iDab  /llbonarcb         21 

It  was  while  working  at  this  direful  tragedy  that 
he  first  heard  the  music  written  by  Beethoven  for 
Goethe's  Egmont^  when  he  immediately  decided  to 
have  his  own  tragedy  supplied  with  music  in  the 
same  manner.  With  such  wonderful  resources  in 
himself,  it  was  unnecessary  for  him  to  seek  a  com- 
poser. But  that  he  might  the  more  worthily 
achieve  the  task  he  set  himself,  he  condescended  to 
study  Logier's  Method  of  Thorough  Bass  for  a  whole 
week.  As  the  result  was  not  all  that  could  be  desired, 
he  was  dissatisfied,  and  the  difficulties  of  composition 
stimulating  him,  he  resolved  to  become  a  musician. 
This  desire  was  in  a  short  time  realised  to  his 
satisfaction,  for  he  wrote  a  sonata,  a  quartette,  and 
an  aria.  The  satisfaction  of  his  music-master,  to  whom 
these  were  submitted,  was  not  so  complete,  but  in- 
different to  the  opinion  of  such  a  person,  this  boy 
of  sixteen  wrote  an  overture  for  grand  orchestra. 
Beside  this  marvellously  complicated  work,  he  con- 
sidered that  Beethoven's  Ninth  Symphony  appeared 
like  a  simple  sonata.  His  sister's  connection  with 
the  theatre  at  Leipzig — to  which  town  the  family 
had  by  this  time  returned — gained  him  the  interest 
of  its  musical  director,  Heinrich  Dorn,  whose  good 
nature  stretched  itself  to  the  limit  of  producing  the 
overture  between  the  acts.  Hearing  it,  the  audience 
gaped  in  astonishment,  then  betrayed  irreverent  irrita- 
tion, and  finally  exploded  in  good-humoured  laughter. 


22  tlbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

This  unexpected  reception  of  his  masterpiece  led 
Wagner  to  suspect  that  his  knowledge  of  harmony 
was  not  perfect ;  when  in  order  to  make  it  so  and  to 
change  the  merriment  of  his  hearers  into  admiration, 
he  seriously  studied  counterpoint,  and  to  such  purpose 
that  his  next  composition  was  printed,  and  when 
performed  met  with  encouragement.  From  writing 
sonatas,  symphonies,  and  overtures,  he  naturally  turned 
to  greater  endeavours,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-one 
composed  three  numbers  of  a  tragic  opera  named 
l^he  Weddings  the  libretto  of  which  he  also  wrote  in 
accordance  with  his  conviction,  ever  after  acted  on, 
that  in  order  to  be  welded  together  in  perfect  unison 
that  would  present  the  highest  example  of  art,  both 
music  and  words  should  emanate  from  the  same  brain. 
As  his  sister  disliked  the  libretto,  he  destroyed  it 
and  began  his  second  opera,  T'he  Fairies^  which  during 
his  lifetime  was  never  performed.  While  holding  the 
post  of  musical  director  of  the  opera  at  Magdeburg, 
he  produced  his  next  effort  for  his  own  benefit.  The 
opinion  of  those  who  heard  it  on  the  first  night  may 
be  gauged  from  the  flict  that  on  the  evening  of 
the  second  performance  three  persons  attended.  The 
opera-house  was  closed,  and  Wagner's  occupation  as 
director  was  ended.  This  latter  misfortune  came  at 
a  time  when  he  was  deeply  in  debt  for  expenses  of 
scenery  and  accessories  needful  for  his  opera,  and  for 
money  borrowed  from  friends. 


Zbc  IRomance  of  a  /IDa^  /Ibonarcb         25 

This  heavy  plight  did  not  prevent  him  from  facing 
the  responsibihties  of  married  life,  and  he  became 
engaged  to  Fraulein  Wilhelmina  Planer.  Short  in 
stature,  his  square  muscular  frame  was  held  erect, 
his  head  habitually  thrown  back  as  if  defying  an 
unappreciative  world.  This  note  of  aggressiveness, 
emphasised  in  his  heavy,  firm  tread  and  abrupt  decisive 
speech,  was  even  more  clearly  seen  in  the  assertive 
expression  of  his  face,  dominated  by  a  wide  imaginative 
forehead,  from  which  thick  brown  hair  was  brushed 
back,  the  nose  prominent,  the  mouth  small  and  thin- 
lipped,  the  eyes  alert,  brilliant,  and  without  brows, 
the  chin  square.  He  dressed  neatly,  with  a  careful 
regard  to  personal  appearance,  he  delighted  in  luxury, 
and  showed  a  carelessness  regarding  money,  for  the 
loan  of  which  he  was  continually  under  obligations 
to  his  friends. 

As  he  was  out  of  employment  for  nine  months, 
his  marriage  was  postponed  until  he  obtained  an 
appointment  as  musical  director  to  the  Konigsberg 
theatre.  In  that  town  the  ceremony  took  place  on 
November  24th,  1836,  "amid  the  most  dubious 
outward  circumstances,"  as  he  states,  adding  signifi- 
cantly, "  The  year  I  spent  in  Konigsberg  was  com- 
pletely lost  to  my  art  by  reason  of  the  pressure  of 
petty  cares."  Before  her  marriage,  Fraulein  Wilhelmina 
Planer  had  been  the  leading  actress  of  the  Magdeburg 
theatre,  a  position  she  gave  up  at  her  husband's  desire. 


24  Zhc  IRomance  of  IRoi^att^ 

This  sacrifice  was  the  greater  because  her  earnings  had 
helped  to  support  her  father,  a  poor  spindle-maker, 
and  his  large  family,  of  which  she  was  the  eldest. 
Personally  she  was  pretty,  in  manner  retiring,  with 
nothing  of  her  profession  clinging  to  her.  With  a 
gentle  voice,  timid  eyes,  and  a  tender  heart,  she  was 
the  opposite  to  her  husband,  with  his  commanding 
tone,  exuberant  speech,  and  brusque  ways.  Nor  did 
their  dissimilarity  end  here  ;  for  she  was  a  careful 
housewife,  economical,  finding  happiness  in  her  home, 
without  ambition  save  to  reign  supreme  in  her  husband's 
affection  ;  while  he  was  extravagant,  fond  of  luxury, 
bent  on  conquest  of  the  world,  and  possessed  of  a 
will  strong  enough  to  bend  and  to  break  the  most 
rigidly  opposing  forces.  However,  the  hardships  they 
endured  helped  to  soften  their  inequalities  and  to 
draw  them  together,  and  during  the  most  impecunious 
years  of  their  married  life  no  disagreements  rose 
between  them.  The  first  twelve  months  of  marriage, 
usually  found  an  ordeal  under  the  most  favourable 
circumstances,  were  especially  trying  to  a  couple  who 
strove  to  keep  up  a  home  without  means  to  support 
it.  Greater  ill  luck  followed  when  the  Konigsberg 
theatre  was  closed  because  of  the  bankruptcy  of  its 
proprietor,  and  Wagner  was  once  more  without 
employment. 

But    he    soon  succeeded  in   gaining  the  position  or 
musical  director  of   the  opera-house  of  Riga,  a  small 


tTbe  Iftomance  of  a  /IDab  /IRonarcb         25 

town  on  the  borders  of  Russia.  While  here  he  com- 
posed two  acts  of  Rienzij  an  opera  whose  story  was 
founded  on  Lord  Lytton's  novel  of  that  name. 
Existence  in  this  remote  spot,  together  with  rehearsals 
of  the  music  of  composers  inferior  to  if  more  popular 
than  his  own,  filled  him  with  weariness,  and  inclined 
him  to  "  withdraw  into  that  region  of  my  inner  self 
where  the  ardent  longing  to  escape  from  my  habitual 
surroundings  was  being  nurtured." 

His  desire  to  escape  was  strengthened  by  the  fact 
that  he  was  overwhelmed  by  debts.  He  therefore 
resolved  to  leave  Riga  and  settle  in  France.  His 
creditors,  however,  thought  a  prison  would  be  a  more 
suitable  residence  for  him  than  Paris,  and  the  authorities 
refused  him  a  passport  until  he  had  paid  his  debts. 
As  a  result  he  and  his  wife,  aided  by  their  theatrical 
friends  who  were  skilful  in  the  art  of  disguise  and 
liberal  in  the  proffer  of  scanty  purses,  escaped  across 
the  Russian  frontier  into  Germany.  From  Pillau, 
Wagner,  with  his  wife  and  a  large  Newfoundland  dog, 
sailed  in  a  small  trading  vessel  for  London  on  their 
way  to  Paris.  All  three  were  terribly  ill  on  this 
voyage  that  lasted  three  weeks  and  a  half,  during 
which  they  were  overtaken  by  violent  storms  that 
threatened  them  with  death.  Their  passage  through 
the  Norwegian  fjords  made  a  deep  impression  on  him, 
which  later  was  to  bear  fruit,  for  it  was  then  that 
the  legend  of  the  Flying   Dutchman,   as   he   heard    it 


26  the  H^omartce  of  IfJo^alt^ 

from  the  sailors,  took  definite  shape  in  his  mind,  and 
decided  him  to  write  the  opera  of  that  name. 

Arriving  at  the  London  Docks  on  a  gloomy  day, 
rain  falling  sadly  and  incessantly,  he  was  driven  through 
endless  drab  streets,  reeking  with  mud,  to  a  dingy  hotel 
in  Great  Compton  Street,  Soho,  where  he  rested  a 
week.  Meantime,  he  wished  to  see  the  sights  of  this 
strange  city,  and  went  everywhere  but  to  the  theatres, 
which  he  avoided.  The  bewildering  immensity  of  the 
capital,  its  surging  crowds,  its  frowning  skies,  and 
its  intolerable  noises,  fretted  his  soul.  From  London 
the  trio  went  to  Boulogne,  where  Meyerbeer,  to  whom 
Wagner  had  an  introduction,  was  staying,  Meyerbeer 
received  him  kindly,  read  the  score  of  the  first  two 
acts  of  Rienzi,  listened  patiently  to  their  author's  en- 
thusiastic praise  of  their  merits,  and  joined  in  them. 
Ferdinand  Praeger,  in  his  delightful  volume,  Wagner 
as  I  Knew  Him,  says  that  the  result  of  Meyerbeer's 
appreciation  was  to  send  Wagner  to  a  restaurant,  where 
*'  with  juvenile  exultation  he  ordered  his  favourite 
beverage,  a  half-bottle  of  champagne,"  for  "  to 
Wagner  champagne  represented  the  perfection  of 
terrestrial  enjoyment,  as  he  often  phrased  it." 

Furnished  by  Meyerbeer  with  introductions  to  im- 
portant persons  in  Paris,  W^agner  set  out  for  that 
capital,  of  whose  conquest  he  was  confident.  But  in 
that  "  illimitable  city  of  splendour  and  squalor,"  as 
he    describes    it,    only    the    bitterest    disappointments 


\ 


tTbe  iRomance  of  a  /ll^a^  /nbonarcb         27 

awaited  him.  That  the  tawdry  music  then  played  at 
the  opera-house  should  be  applauded,  while  his  own 
compositions  were  rejected  and  ridiculed  ;  that  with 
the  genius  he  felt  within  him  he  was  unable  to  earn 
bread,  reduced  him  to  despair.  Not  only  his  operas 
were  rejected,  but  also  his  songs,  on  the  plea  that  they 
lacked  harmony  and  were  impossible  to  execute  ;  his 
criticisms  written  for  the  musical  journals  were  fre- 
quently returned  to  him  ;  and  his  offer  to  sing  as  a 
chorus-singer  in  a  minor  boulevard  theatre  was  de- 
clined because  he  had  no  voice.  In  an  entry  in  his 
diary,  kept  in  the  hope  that  a  committal  to  its  pages 
of  his  dark  moods  would  bring  relief,  "  as  tears  do  to 
a  heart  oppressed,''  he  says  that  he  sees  the  greatest 
conceivable  misery  in  store  for  him,  that  he  has  come 
to  his  last  penny,  and  that  his  fears  are  turning  to 
despair.  When  reduced  to  absolute  want,  he  asked 
his  wife  to  pawn  her  jewellery,  only  to  learn  that  she 
had  done  so  long  ago.  Through  these  dark  days 
her  devotion  to  him  shone  with  divine  brilliancy. 
Patient,  uncomplaining,  contriving,  she  washed,  mended, 
cooked,  cleaned,  obtained  clothes  for  him  on  credit, 
always  presenting  a  cheerful  aspect,  beneath  which  she 
hid  her  own  gnawing  cares  and  sore  vexations,  not  the 
least  of  which  were  her  husband's  irritable  and  variable 
moods,  that  he  confesses  were  hard  to  bear. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  Wagner's  natural  arrogance 
hindered  his  success.     Nor  were  his  chances  improved 


2g  Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

by    his    inability    to    speak    French    with    any    fluency 
and  his  unwillingness  to  accommodate  himself  to  the 
ways  of  those  surrounding  him.      "  I   felt  not  the  least 
inclination,"   he   says,   "  to   assimilate  the  traits  of  the 
French,  but  I  flattered  myself  with  the  hope  of  being 
able   to   approach  them  in   my  own  way.     I   credited 
music,  the  world-language,  with  the  power  of  bridging 
an  abyss  between    me    and    the    Parisians,    as    to    the 
existence   of  which  my  feelings    did    not    deceive    me. 
When    I   attended    the    brilliant    performances    at    the 
Grand  Opera,  which  was  not  often  (for  good  reasons), 
I  was  overcome  by  a  voluptuous  feeling  which  formed 
in    my    heated    imagination    the    wish,    the  hope,   yes, 
even  the  certainty  of  being  able  to  triumph  here  some 
day  :   this  external   splendour,   applied   to   the  uses  of 
artistic   inspiration,   appeared    to    me    the    culminating 
point    of  art,   and   I   did   not   feel  at   all  incapable   of 
reaching  this  point." 

While  his  mind  indulged  in  such  dreams,  his  empty 
stomach  often  tempted  him  to  crime.  But  at  the 
moment  when  his  prospects  seemed  blackest  Meyer- 
beer returned  to  Paris,  and  interested  himself  in  this 
unfortunate  man,  for  whom  he  obtained  employment 
from  the  Gazette  Music  ale  as  a  corrector  of  proofs 
and  as  an  arranger  of  popular  melodies  for  the  piano. 
The  sale  of  a  libretto  also  brought  relief  to  Wagner, 
who,  while  keeping  the  wolf  at  a  safe  distance  from 
the  door,  finished    his    opera    Rienziy    and    began    his 


TLbc  iRomance  of  a  /lDa&  /ll>onarcb         29 

Flying  Dutchman.  Despairing  of  getting  these  pro- 
duced in  Paris,  and  hoping  to  find  acceptance  for 
them  in  Munich,  Leipzig,  or  Berlin,  he  left  France 
in  the  spring  of  1842.  After  many  weary  delays 
and  trying  disappointments,  Rienzi  was  produced  in 
Dresden  in  the  October  of  that  year,  when  notwith- 
standing that  it  lasted  six  hours,  it  was  an  assured 
success.  Suddenly  his  fortunes  seemed  changed.  "  I, 
who  had  hitherto  been  lonely,  deserted,  homeless, 
suddenly  found  myself  loved,  admired,  by  many  even 
regarded  with  wonderment,"  says  he.  The  pubHc  were 
now  willing  to  hear  another  opera  by  this  composer, 
and  ten  weeks  later  The  Flying  Dutchman  was  placed 
on  the  stage.  It  was  not,  however,  nearly  so  successful 
as  its  predecessor,  and  three  more  years  of  endeavour 
were  passed  before  he  could  obtain  a  hearing  for 
'Tannhduser  on  October  19th,  1845.  Strange  to  say 
that  this  work  appealed  only  to  a  few  intimate  friends, 
and  not  to  the  general  public.  Those  who  first  heard 
it  left  the  theatre  in  a  state  of  confusion  and  dis- 
appointment, which  the  composer  says  had  the  effect 
of  overwhelming  him  with  disappointment,  adding, 
"  The  few  friends  who  heartily  sympathised  with  me 
were  themselves  so  depressed  by  my  painful  position, 
that  the  perception  of  this  sympathetic  ill  humour 
was  the  only  friendly  sign  about  me."  Five  years  were 
to  pass  before  Lohengrin  was  produced  at  the  Weimar 
theatre,  the  exact  date  being  August  28th,   1850. 


30  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

Liszt,  whose  appreciation  of  this  beautiful  opera 
enabled  it  to  be  placed  on  the  stage,  wrote  to  the 
composer  saying  that  the  intelligent  people  were  full 
of  sympathy  and  admiration  for  his  work,  "  and  as 
far  as  the  public  is  concerned,  it  will  doubtless  consider 
it  an  honour  to  applaud  and  pronounce  that  beautiful 
which  it  cannot  understand." 

The  JValku7'e  was  begun  and  finished,  and  Siegfried 
begun  and  set  aside  for  'Tristan  and  Isolde^  which  was 
undertaken  in  the  hope  of  "  accomplishing  a  marvel," 
or  in  other  words,  of  forcing  the  world  to  believe 
in  him.  It  was  while  this  opera  was  being  written 
in  1857,  that  fresh  troubles  fell  upon  Wagner  ;  for 
after  over  twenty  years  of  poverty  and  worry  his 
wife's  health  broke  down.  As  a  consequence  of  the 
strain  upon  her  nerves,  her  temper  became  uncertain 
and  her  mind  had  so  far  escaped  from  its  customary 
attitude  of  worship,  as  to  wonder  if  her  husband  was 
wise  in  refusing  to  write  popular  music  that  in  return 
would  win  them  bread.  As  her  excessive  nervousness 
resulted  in  insomnia,  she  sought  relief  in  opium,  that 
in  turn  brought  about  heart  trouble.  In  writing  to 
his  friend  Frau  JuHa  Ritter,  of  Mina,  his  wife,  Wagner 
says  that  the  condition  of  her  mind  had  become  a 
torment  to  herself  and  to  her  surroundings,  adding, 
*'  The  state  of  her  education  and  her  intellectual 
capacities  make  it  impossible  for  her  to  find  in  me 
and  my  endowments  the  consolation  which  she  needs 


XTbe  IRomance  of  a  /lDa&  /IDonarcb         31 

so  much  by  way  of  compensation  for  the  disagreeable- 
ness  of  our  material  situation.  If  this  is  the  source 
of  great  anguish  to  me,  it  nevertheless  makes  me 
pity  her  with  all  my  heart,  and  it  is  my  most  cordial 
wish  that  I  may  some  day  be  able  to  afford  her  lasting 
consolation  in   her  own  way." 

A  separation  followed,  when  she  went  to  reside  in 
Saxony,  while  he  visited  Switzerland  and  Italy.  Though 
she  was  devoted  to  her  husband,  and  he  was  at  all 
times  considerate  and  affectionate  towards  her,  yet  the 
clashing  of  their  widely  differing  temperaments  could 
never  have  secured  them  permanent  happiness.  The 
fault  cannot  be  set  down  to  either,  though  it  was 
lamentable  that  with  all  her  endurance,  thrift,  and 
practicality,  she  lacked  that  insight  of  her  partner 
that  more  than  any  other  quality  in  man  or  woman 
tends  to  harmony  in  married  life.  Nothing  could  be 
more  significant  of  her  mental  attitude  towards  her 
husband,  nothing  so  indicative  of  the  tragic  and 
pathetic  space  dividing  them,  than  the  questions  she 
asked  in  confidence  of  their  common  friend  Ferdinand 
Praeger,  at  a  time  when  Wagner  had  given  the  world 
its  greatest,  most  dramatic  operas,  "  Now,  honestly, 
is  Richard  such  a  great  genius  ^  "  and  "  Is  his  music 
really  so  beautiful  as  you  say  .''  It  does  not  seem 
so  to  me,  and  I  am  afraid  it  would  not  sound  so  to 
others." 

After     an     absence     of    some    months    they    were 


32  XTbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

reunited,  when  Wagner  wrote  to  Frau  Ritter,  hoping 
that  Heaven  might  grant  him  the  abiHty  to  carry  out 
patiently  his  firm  and  honest  determination  to  treat 
Mina  in  the  most  considerate  manner.  It  was  while 
living  apart  from  Mina,  in  the  autumn  of  1857,  that 
he  set  to  work  with  all  his  soul  at  his  opera  of 
Tristan,  the  first  act  of  which  was  completed  on  the 
last  day  of  that  year.  When  two  years  later  the 
whole  opera  was  finished,  he  took  it  to  Paris  in 
the  glowing  hope  that  he  might  be  able  to  produce 
it  there  under  his  own  supervision,  and  establish  his 
fame  as  a  composer  in  the  French  capital.  For  though 
disgusted  by  the  artificiality  of  the  music  accepted 
and  approved  by  them,  yet  he  considered  the  French 
people  had  inherited  a  perception  of  beauty  in  art, 
and  a  refinement  of  feeling,  such  as  no  other  European 
nation  could  boast. 

To  prepare  the  way  for  his  opera,  concerts  of  his 
own  music  were  given,  which  proved  a  disastrous 
failure  financially.  Then  followed  a  period  dark  with 
tribulations.  When  almost  overcome  by  adversity 
and  overwhelmed  by  debt,  news  suddenly  came  to 
him  that  the  Emperor  had  ordered  a  representation 
of  'Tannhduser  at  the  Grand  Opera,  This  good 
fortune  was  due  to  the  Princess  Pauline  Metternich, 
an  intimate  friend  of  the  Empress,  and  wife  of  the 
Austrian  Ambassador.  Having  heard  two  of  Wagner's 
operas  at    Vienna,   she    had   been    impressed    by  their 


Ube  IRomance  of  a  /IDat)  /IRonarcb         33 

grandeur  and  genius.  Later  she  told  Napoleon  that 
a  great  German  composer  was  starving  in  Paris, 
when  the  Emperor  expressed  surprise  that  the  work 
of  such  a  man  had  not  been  heard  by  the  Parisians. 
On  being  told  that  many  concessions,  besides  much 
outlay,  were  required  before  Wagner's  operas  could 
be  produced,  his  Majesty  declared  the  composer's 
wishes  should  be  met  regarding  expenses. 

This  decision  thrilled  Wagner  with  delight,  for 
quick  to  pass  from  depression  to  elation,  he  now  saw 
himself  released  for  ever  from  drudgery  and  obscurity, 
and  placed  on  radiant  heights  where  he  stood  recog- 
nised, lauded,  eternally  renowned.  Sad  to  say,  such 
buoyant  hopes  were  from  the  first  chequered  by  the 
incredible  difficulties  of  putting  Tannhduser  on  the 
stage  of  the  Paris  opera-house  in  the  way  its  composer 
desired.  A  translation  of  the  libretto  was  made  into 
French,  not  by  an  ordinary  hack,  but  by  a  poet  capable 
of  reproducing  the  accent  of  every  word  to  correspond 
with  the  accent  of  every  musical  phrase.  To  facilitate 
this  the  music  of  the  whole  of  the  first  scene  was 
re-written,  translator  and  composer  working  day  and 
night.  Wagner  then  engaged  German  singers  at  great 
salaries  for  the  leading  parts  ;  he  demanded  an 
enlarged  orchestra  ;  the  best  scenic  artists  in  France 
painted  the  scenery  under  his  directions  ;  while  the 
rehearsals,  lasting  six  months  and  numbering  one 
hundred  and  sixty-four,  were  insufficient  to  satisfy  his 

VOL.    I.  3 


34  Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alts 

exorbitant  requirements.  These  were  not  conducted 
without  strife  and  vexation,  for  the  singers  rebelled  at 
the  continued  strain,  and  at  the  exactions  of  the  com- 
poser, and  became  sulky  or  angry  when  he  corrected 
their  methods,  or  explained  his  phrasing,  one  of  them 
having  to  be  held  back  on  such  an  occasion  lest  she 
should  fulfil  her  violent  threat  of  scratching  his 
eyes  out. 

Worse  than  all,  the  conductor  proved  himself  wholly 
incapable,  according  to  the  composer,  for  his  task,  and 
resented  the  instructions  given  to  him.  Wagner  then 
asked  permission  of  the  director  of  the  opera  to 
conduct  the  first  performance,  and  in  return  was 
coldly  informed  that  the  general  rules  of  the  house 
could  not  be  set  aside  in  his  favour.  Bristling  with 
impotent  rage,  he  was  obliged  to  see  the  orchestra 
conducted  in  a  manner  contrary  to  his  methods  and 
desires.  "  Those  who  attended  the  rehearsals  will 
never  forget  them,"  says  Charles  Nuitter.  *'  The 
conductor  at  his  desk  was  beating  his  time  ;  while 
the  composer,  seated  two  steps  away  from  him  on  the 
stage  by  the  prompter's  box,  was  beating  his  own  time, 
and  beating  it  with  hands  and  feet,  raising  a  terrible 
noise  and  a  cloud  of  dust  on  the  stage  floor."  The 
last  straw  was  added  to  the  load  of  Wagner's  vexations 
when  the  director,  pointing  out  that  there  was  no 
ballet  in  the  second  act,  begged  that  such  a  serious 
omission  might  be  remedied.     Wagner's  answer  that 


Xlbe  IRoinance  ot  a  /iDaC)  /iDonarcb         35 

a  ballet  would  be  an  absurdity  and  an  outrage  on  art 
had  no  effect  on  the  director,  who  stated  that  his 
aristocratic  subscribers,  the  members  of  the  Jockey 
Clubj  seldom  entered  the  house  before  the  second  act, 
when  they  expected  to  have  their  tastes  gratified  by  an 
exhibition  of  the  semi-nude.  A  desperate  wrangle 
followed,  which  did  not  end  until  Wagner  appealed  to 
his  patroness,  the  Princess  Metternich,  through  whose 
influence  the  opera  was  allowed  to  be  presented  with- 
out the  customary  ballet.  As  a  result  of  worry, 
exertion,  and  fatigue,  Wagner  was  attacked  by  brain 
fever,  and  the  presentation  of  his  opera  had  to  be 
postponed.  Its  first  performance  eventually  took  place 
on  March   13th,   1861. 

Many  forces  were  at  work  to  wreck  it.  That  the 
Emperor  had  commanded  the  opera  of  a  foreigner, 
while  so  many  French  composers  were  anxiously 
awaiting  acceptance,  was  a  grievance  enlarged  on  by 
themselves  and  by  the  press,  which  Wagner  had  not 
troubled  to  conciliate.  That  he  had  indignantly 
rejected  the  offers  of  paid  claqueurs,  hired  on  such 
occasions  to  applaud,  was  a  departure  these  individuals 
were  determined  not  to  tolerate.  But  above  all  his 
refusal  to  introduce  a  ballet  gave  unforgivable  offence 
to  the  members  of  the  Jockey  Club,  not  only  because 
it  deprived  them  of  a  customary  pleasure,  but  because 
it  threw  out  of  employment  a  number  of  women  in 
whom  they  were  interested. 


36  XLhc  IRomancc  of  IRo^alt^ 

All  Paris  was  in  a  state  of  excitement  on  the  night 
of  Tannhauser's  first  representation  in  the  capital. 
As  for  the  composer  himself,  he  had  by  this  time 
lost  all  hope  of  that  success  which  at  the  beginning 
had  led  to  boundless  expectations  ;  and  he  was  now 
dissatisfied,  irritated,  ill,  and  wounded,  in  which  melan- 
choly condition  he  was  almost  dragged  to  the  opera- 
house  by  his  friends.  The  scene  there  had  all  its 
usual  brilliancy  and  more  than  its  customary  vivacity. 
The  entrance  of  their  Imperial  Majesties  was  warmly 
greeted,  but  that  of  the  Princess  Metternich  met 
with  signs  of  hostility.  As  the  conductor  raised  his 
baton  a  hush  fell  on  the  house,  and  the  magnificent 
overture  was  listened  to  with  surprise  and  approval. 
The  first  act,  however,  was  frequently  interrupted  by 
explosions  of  mocking  laughter,  shouts  of  disapproval, 
and  general  hubbub,  that  was  increased  by  the  counter- 
demonstrations  of  Wagner's  friends  and  those  anxious 
to  hear  the  music.  It  was  however  during  the  second 
act,  when  the  members  of  the  Jockey  Club  had  taken 
their  seats,  that  the  battle  may  be  said  to  have  begun, 
for  suddenly,  at  a  preconcerted  signal,  a  shrill  sound 
of  dog  whistles  pierced  all  ears,  and  completely  drowned 
the  music.  In  vain  the  Emperor  leaned  from  his 
box  and  frowned  ;  in  vain  a  section  of  the  audience 
demanded  that  the  offenders  should  be  turned  out ; 
that  the  singers  stood  mute  and  appealing.  From 
time  to  time  came  a  lull  only  to   be  followed  by  a 


Ube  IRomance  of  a  /Iftat)  /iDottavcb         37 

tumult  that  overwhelmed  all  opposition  to  itself,  and 
prevented  any  idea  of  the  opera  being  performed  by 
those  who  desired  to  hear  it.  A  second  and  a  third 
performance  met  with  similar  receptions,  when  Wagner 
withdrew  his  opera. 

Dejected  as  he  was  by  this  miserable  business,  and 
heavily  burdened  by  debt,  additional  vexation  was 
caused  him  by  a  second  breakdown  in  his  wife's 
health.  Borrowing  money  for  the  purpose,  he  sent 
her  to  the  baths  at  Mannheim.  "  After  we  had  lived 
through  four  more  ghastly  days  in  the  rooms,  she 
set  off  comfortably  with  the  parrot,"  he  writes  to 
the  Baroness  Malwida  von  Meysenbug,  in  a  letter 
which,  together  with  those  he  wrote  to  Frau  Wille, 
their  translator,  Mr.  William  Ashton  Ellis,  has  kindly 
permitted  me  to  quote.  Later,  Wagner  went  to 
Biebrich  on  the  Rhine,  that  he  might  be  able  to 
devote  himself  undisturbed  to  work.  From  Mannheim 
Mina  went  to  Dresden,  where  for  the  brief  remainder 
of  her  life  she  lived  with  her  family.  It  is  evident 
that  at  this  period  neither  intended  their  parting  to 
be  final,  and  it  is  probable  that  the  initiative  came 
from  Mina,  who  for  some  time  had  been  jealous 
of  her  husband's  friendship  with  Frau  Wesendonck, 
an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  his  genius,  and  wife  of  his 
benefactor,  whom  Wagner  declared  an  *'  unique  man." 

In  the  spring  of  1864,  while  still  pursued  by  mis- 
fortune,   harassed    by  debt,  and  fretted    by  his  wife's 


38  the  IRomance  oX  IRo^attg 

absence,  he  sought  quiet   and  refuge  with  his  friends 
Herr  and  Frau  Wille,  then  living  at  Mariafeld,  about 
four    miles    from    Zurich.       His    hostess,    a    lover    of 
music,    a  novelist,    and    a   kind,    sympathetic   woman, 
"  humoured  him  as  far  as  possible  "  by  placing  rooms 
and  servants  at  his  disposal  ;  so  that  he  ate  his  meals 
alone,   composed  uninterruptedly,  walked  in  solitude, 
and    only    occasionally    joined     the    family    in    their 
apartments.     At    times    severe    depression    beset    him. 
"  My    friend,"  he  said  to  her  on  one  occasion,  when 
she  had  been  striving  to  comfort  him  by  the  reflection 
that    all  great  men  had  to  endure    misunderstandings 
and    misfortune,    "  you    do  not    know    the    extent    of 
my  sufferings,  the  depth  of  the  misery  that  lies  before 
me."     In  reply  she  strove  to  cheer  him  by  picturing 
a   time    when    he    would  triumph  over  adversity,  but 
in  his  desponding  mood  he  was  not  inclined  to  listen 
to  hope,  and  asked  how  she  could  talk  of  a  glorious 
future    while  his  manuscripts    were    locked   up  in  his 
desk.     "  Who,"   he  asked,  "  is  to  bring   out  the  art- 
work which  only  I,  with  the  co-operation  of  propitious 
deities,    can    produce,   so   that   all  the  world  may   see 
how  it  is,  how  the  master  saw  and  wanted  his  work  ?  " 
Then,  clad  in  his  brown  velvet  gown,   a   black  velvet 
biretta  on  his    head,  which  gave    him    the  appearance 
of  an   Albert  Durer  portrait,  he  walked  restlessly  up 
and    down    the    room,    only    pausing    to    give    vivid 
glimpses   of  his  temperament  in  such    phrases  as  "  I 


Ubc  K^oinance  ot  a  /llbab  /IDonavcb         39 

am  differently  organised  from  others,  have  sensitive 
nerves,  must  have  beauty,  splendour,  and  light.  I 
cannot  be  content  with  the  miserable  position  of  an 
organist,  like  our  Master  Bach.  Is  it  really  such 
an  outrageous  demand  if  I  claim  a  right  to  the  little 
bit  of  luxury  which  I  like — I  who  am  preparing 
enjoyment  for   the  world,  and  for  thousands  ^  " 

While  here  blissfully  removed  from  the  disturbing 
influence  of  pressing  creditors,  the  distressing  memory 
of  his  wife  was  brought  vividly  before  him  by  mention 
of  her  name  in  a  letter  from  his  friend  Ferdinand 
Praeger.  In  his  reply  Wagner  gave  the  keynote  to 
their  unhappy  situation,  in  reference  to  which  he  asks. 
How  could  his  wife  have  expected  that  he  was  to  be 
shackled  and  fettered  like  any  ordinary  cold  common 
mortal  ?  "  My  inspirations  carried  me  into  a  sphere 
she  could  not  follow,  and  then  the  exuberance  of  my 
heated  enthusiasm  was  met  by  a  cold  douche."  But 
still  he  considered  there  was  no  just  reason  for  their 
separation,  as  everything  might  have  been  arranged 
between  them.  *'  Now  there  is  a  dark  void,  and  my 
misery  is  deep.  It  has  struck  into  my  health,  I  do 
not  sleep,  and  am  altogether  in  a  feverish  state.  It  is 
now  that  I  feel  I  have  sounded  my  lowest  note  of 
dark  despair." 

He  was  still  enjoying  the  hospitable  shelter  of  Herr 
Wille's  roof  when  one  morning  a  bundle  of  letters 
were    handed  to  him.      Among  these  was  a  friendly 


46  U\K  IRomance  of  IRo^^alt^ 

warning  that  creditors  were  on  his  track.  To  escape 
from  fiends  who  thirsted  for  their  money  or  his  liberty, 
it  became  necessary  that  he  should  leave  next  day  ; 
which  he  accordingly  did,  explaining  to  his  friends 
that  he  wished  to  make  arrangements  regarding  his 
operas,  and  recruit  his  health  in  a  more  invigorating 
place.  It  was  in  this  dark  hour,  while  flying  from 
his  creditors,  worn  in  health,  broken  in  spirit,  while, 
to  use  his  own  words,  he  was  "  draining  the  cup  of 
sorrow  to  its  lowest  dregs,"  that  the  turn  came  in 
the  tide  of  his  affairs  which  was  to  lead  to  inde- 
pendence, recognition,  and  fame.  For  while  travelling 
from  place  to  place  to  escape  his  pursuers,  King 
Ludwig  had  sent  his  private  secretary.  Baron  Pfister- 
meister,  and  an  envoy,  Adjutant  Sauer,  to  find  and 
bring  Wagner  to  him. 

His  Majesty's  interest  had  first  been  roused  in  the 
composer  when,  as  a  lad  of  sixteen,  he  had  attended 
a  performance  of  Lohengrin  at  Weimar,  under  the 
direction  of  Franz  Liszt.  Fond  of  mythological 
subjects  and  the  romantic  legends  of  his  country,  as 
has  already  been  stated,  the  story  of  the  valiant  knight 
and  the  enchanted  swan  on  which  this  opera  is  founded, 
had  an  especial  attraction  for  him  as  being  associated 
with  the  castle  of  Hohenschwangan,  where  much  of 
his  early  life  had  been  spent.  Rebuilt  by  his  father 
on  the  site  of  an  ancient  residence  of  the  Knights  of 
the    Swan,    it    stands   high    on    a   rugged    hill    above 


Zbc  iRomauce  ot  a  /llbat)  /iDouarcb         4* 

gorges,  lakes,  forests,  and  valleys,  and  is  sufficiently 
romantic  in  aspect  to  be  the  home  of  a  hundred  myths. 
Among  its  apartments  one  is  known  as  the  Hall  of 
the  Swan-Knight,  whose  frescoed  walls  represent  his 
story.  And  as  the  device  of  the  castle  is  a  swan,  that 
bird  may  be  found  in  picture  and  effigy  everywhere, 
without  and  within  its  walls — on  the  armorial  bearing 
on  the  entrance  gates,  as  fountains  from  whose  beaks 
water  gushes,  as  ornaments  in  silver  and  porcelain 
in  the  salons,  as  vases,  goblets,  ink-bottles,  and 
ornaments  of  all  kinds.  To  see  this  legend  dramati- 
cally produced  on  the  stage,  to  an  accompaniment 
of  thrilling  sounds  and  amid  scenes  of  wondrous 
fantasy,  fascinated  the  imagination  of  the  boy,  and 
took  such  hold  on  him,  as  Wagner  related  with 
self-satisfaction,  "  that  he  thenceforth  drew  his  self- 
tuition  from  the  study  of  my  works  and  writings, 
and  has  openly  declared  to  his  entourage,  as  now 
to  me,  that  I  have  been  his  sole  true  teacher  and 
bringer-up." 

Wagner's  only  foundation  for  this  egotistical 
boastfulness  was  that  Ludwig  had  read  Art  and 
Revolution  and  Opera  and  Drama,  pamphlets  in  which 
the  composer  had  set  forth  his  ideas  on  these 
subjects  with  an  originality  and  vigour  that  had 
probably  appealed  to  Ludwig's  mind.  That  he 
appreciated  Wagner's  music  is  doubtful.  Those  who 
disparage  it  will  readily  accept  the  statement  persisted 


42  tbc  l^omance  of  iRo^alt^ 

in  to  his  last  day  by  Wanner,  the  Royal  music-master, 
that  Ludwig  had  no  ear  for  music.     He  had,  however, 
sufficient   interest    in    Wagner's    splendid    schemes  for 
the  regeneration  of  his  art,  confidently  termed  by  him 
"  the   music  of  the    future,"   but   comically   described 
by  Punch   as  "  promissory  notes,"  to  summon  to  his 
Court    a    man    so    notable    and    so    sorely    oppressed. 
Scarcely  had    the    composer  left  Mariafeld,  the  home 
of  the  Willes,  when  Baron  Pfistermeister  called  there 
in    search    of    him,    and    was    given    his    address    at 
Stuttgart.      Meantime  Adjutant  Sauer,  who  had  spent 
a    week    seeking    the    composer    in     Vienna    and    its 
surroundings,   was   told  that  he   was   hiding  from  his 
creditors  in  Stuttgart,  and  going  there  found  him. 


CHAPTER    II 

Wagner  Reaches  the  Castle  of  Berg — His  First  Interview  with  Ludwig 
— Extravagant  Estimate  of  the  Impression  he  has  Made — Near 
him  am  I  to  Abide — Change  in  Wagner's  Circumstances — The 
March  of  Homage — Frau  von  Bulovv — Wagner  Remembers  a 
Dream — The  Heavenly  Prodigy  of  Youth — First  Production  of 
Tristan — The  Courtiers  Dislike  Wagner — Agitation  Against  him — 
His  Reply  to  his  Enemies — A  Supreme  Egotist — Ministers  Demand 
his  Dismissal— The  Populace  Gather  Round  the  Palace — Ludvvig's 
Reply  to  them — Wagner  is  Forced  to  Leave  Munich — Hears  of  his 
Wife's  Death — Settles  on  the  Borders  of  Bavaria — Is  Visited  by 
the  King — The  Experiences  of  Catulle  Mendes — Wagner's  Letters 
to  his  Dressmaker — The  King's  Projected  Marriage — Extensive 
Preparations — His  Majesty  Outrages  the  Composer — Wagner 
Graciously  Pardons  him — The  King's  Marriage  is  Broken  off — 
First  Production  of  the  Meistersmger — Unfriendly  Criticisms — The 
King's  Winter  Garden— The  Designs  of  a  Prima  Donna — Frau 
von  Bulow's  Marriage  is  Dissolved — She  Marries  Wagner — Franz 
Liszt  Takes  Minor  Orders. 

''T^HE  distinguished  tenor,  Herr  Vogl,  told  Mr. 
X  Henry  T.  Finck,  the  author  of  an  exhaustive 
biography  called  Wagner  and  his  Works^  that  the 
composer  was  so  overwhelmed  by  misfortunes  that  he 
had  decided  to  end  his  life  at  the  moment  the  Royal 
messenger  found  him.  That  his  wondrous  self- 
confidence  should  have  deserted  him  seems  doubtful, 

43 


44  tlbe  iRomance  of  iRo^alt^ 

especially  as  in  writing  to  his  *'  priceless  friend,"  Frau 
Wille,  he  says  he  could  not  have  endured  the  depths  of 
his  misery  "  if  there  had  not  lurked  in  my  being's 
depths  a  sort  of  consciousness  that  my  unprecedented 
sufferings  at  least  had  won  me  a  title  to  some  higher 
import,  and  a  title  which,  even  if  not  conceded  by  the 
world,  yet  raised  me  so  much  higher  above  the  world, 
and  thus  albeit  in  deepest  misery  made  me  inwardly  a 
charmed  and  blessed  man."  Continuing,  he  tells  her 
he  felt  assured  that  if  he  could  bear  his  burden,  and 
yet  remain  meek  and  kindly,  there  must  be  something 
higher  meant  for  him.  "  Like  lightning  it  flashed 
through  me  that  the  curtain  must  suddenly  rise,  and 
some  wondrous  happiness  be  shown  to  me."  There- 
fore, when  the  King's  messenger  arrived,  he  "  was  not 
at  all  affrighted  ;  of  itself  I  had  been  perfectly  sure  ; 
merely  the  drastic  swiftness  of  its  entry  startled  me." 

Joyously,  radiant  with  hope,  Wagner  travelled  with 
the  envoy  from  Stuttgart  to  Munich,  where  they 
stayed  a  night  on  their  way  to  the  King,  then  residing 
in  the  castle  of  Berg,  standing  on  a  slight  eminence 
surrounded  by  a  park,  and  overlooking  Lake  Starn- 
berg,  which  is  two  miles  long  and  half  a  mile  wide  ; 
its  slopes  on  either  side  showing  castles  and  villas 
rising  from  shrubberies  and  woods.  Arriving  at  the 
castle  next  day,  Wagner  was  ushered  into  the  King's 
presence.  A  man  of  strong  magnetic  influence,  power- 
ful will,  and  boundless  belief  in  his  own  abilities,  the 


Ube  iRomance  of  a  /Ii>a5  /iDonavcb         4S 

composer,  then  in  his  fifty-first  year,  completely 
dominated  this  lad,  yet  in  his  teens,  who,  impressionable, 
romantic,  and  eccentric,  had  already  decided  to  rescue 
from  his  troubles,  and  act  as  patron  to,  a  man  of 
genius. 

In  writing  to  Frau  Wille  of  his  interview  with 
the  King,  Wagner  says  :  "At  once  all  was  clear  and 
appointed  ;  the  curtain  was  drawn  up."  His  own 
words  written  within  a  few  hours  of  his  first  sight  of 
Ludwig,  can  alone  do  justice  to  his  description  of  his 
patron,  and  to  his  account  of  the  interest  and  affection 
which,  even  on  so  brief  an  acquaintance,  he  believed 
himself  to  have  inspired  in  that  youth.  "  Alas,"  he 
writes,  "  he  is  so  handsome  and  intelligent,  so  splendid 
and  so  full  of  soul,  that  I  fear  lest  his  life  should 
vanish  like  a  fleeting  dream  of  gods  in  this  vulgar 
world.  He  loves  me  with  the  depth  and  glow  of  a 
first  love  ;  he  knows  and  fathoms  everything  about 
me,  and  understands  me  as  my  soul.  He  wills  that  I 
shall  always  stay  with  him,  work,  rest,  perform  my 
works  ;  he  will  give  me  all  I  need  therefor  ;  I  am  to 
finish  the  Nibelungen,  and  he  will  have  it  performed 
according  to  my  wish.  I  am  to  be  my  own  unfettered 
master,  not  Capellmeister,  nothing  but  myself  and  his 
friend.  All  this  he  means  quite  seriously  and  strictly. 
All  trouble  shall  be  taken  from  me ;  I  am  to  have 
whatever  I  want,  only  near  him  am  I  to  abide.  .  .  . 
My  happiness  is  so  great,  that  I  am  quite  shattered  by 


46  Ube  IRomance  of  IRoyalti? 

it.     Of  the  magic  of  his  eye  you  can  form  no  notion  ; 
if  only  he  be  granted  life — it  is  too  rare  a  miracle." 

The  first  result  of  his  changed  circumstances  was 
seen  when  he  went  to  Vienna  to  arrange  with  his 
creditors.  Returning  with  two  servants — a  married 
couple — and  a  faithful  hound,  he  settled  in  the  villa 
which  the  King  allotted  to  him,  luxuriously  furnished, 
delightfully  situated  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Starnberg, 
and  convenient  to  the  Royal  residence.  Here,  "  borne 
by  the  divinest  love,"  he  enjoyed  his  wondrous  good 
fortune.  From  his  new  residence,  as  he  hastens  to 
tell  his  friend  Frau  Wille,  the  Royal  carriage  was  sent 
for  him  once  or  twice  a  day.  "  Then  I  fly  as  to  a 
sweetheart.  'Tis  a  fascinating  interview.  This  thirst 
for  instruction,  this  comprehension,  this  quiver  and 
glow,  I  have  never  encountered  in  such  splendid  un- 
restraint. And  then  this  charming  care  for  me,  this 
winning  chastity  of  heart,  of  every  feature,  when  he 
assures  me  of  his  happiness  in  possessing  me  ;  thus 
do  we  often  sit  for  hours  together,  lost  in  each 
other's  gaze.  He  makes  no  parade  of  me  ;  we  are 
altogether  for  ourselves.  If  I  would — so  they  tell 
me — the  whole  Court  might  stand  free  to  me.  He 
would  not  understand  me  if  I  asked  for  an  ambitious 
role  there.  So  beautiful  and  genuine  is  it  all.  How 
easy  is  it  for  me  thus  to  tranquillise  on  every  hand  ; 
I  am  not  remarked,  I  injure  no  one  ;  everything,  what 
we  both    despise  at  heart,  pursues  the  even  tenor  of 


XTbe  IRomance  of  a  /llbab  /iDonarcb         47 

its  way  ;  we  trouble  not  for  that.  In  time  they  all 
will  like  me  ;  already  the  immediate  entourage  of  the 
young  King  is  happy  to  find  and  know  me  thus,  since 
each  perceives  that  my  enormous  influence  on  the 
prince's  mind  can  only  tend  to  good,  to  no  one's 
harm.  Thus  everything  both  in  and  round  us  turns 
better  and  more  beautiful  each  day." 

In  his  boyish  enthusiasm  for  one  who  was  not  slow 
to  impress  his  unequalled  greatness  on  a  susceptible 
mind,  .Ludwig  showered  honours  and  favours  on  his 
protege,  whom  he  made  a  naturahsed  subject  of 
Bavaria,  and  to  whom  he  gave  a  pension  of  a  hundred 
pounds  which  was  subsequently  increased,  allotted 
apartments  in  the  Royal  palace,  a  place  at  the  Royal 
table,  and  presented  with  a  portrait  for  which  his 
Majesty  gave  special  sittings.  It  is  characteristic  of 
Wagner  that  he  regarded  this  last  favour,  not  so 
much  as  a  gracious  gift,  as  an  act  that  "  has  taught 
me  how  to  show  to  others,  too,  that  I  have  genius." 

Meantime  he  composed  The  March  of  Homage 
in  honour  of  the  King,  which  was  played  on  the 
military  bands ;  produced  his  opera  The  Flying 
Dutchman  at  the  Munich  theatre  in  December,  1864  ; 
gave  concerts  of  his  own  music  in  that  and  the 
following  month  ;  suggested  the  foundation  of  a  school 
for  the  training  of  those  who  would  sing  in  his 
operas ;  the  building  of  a  theatre  to  be  devoted  to  his 
works,   the  performance  of  which,  he  stated,  was  the 


48  Uhc  IRomance  of  1Ro)?alt^ 

King's  "  consuming  thought."  But  though  freed 
from  debt,  honoured  by  Royalty,  with  the  prospect 
before  him  of  having  his  music  presented  according 
to  his  own  exacting  desires,  he  was  yet  unhappy. 
For  he  who  had  so  often  longed  for  isolation  and 
quiet  now  felt  dejected  and  lonely,  as  separated  from 
his  wife,  he  had  no  one  to  share  his  existence. 

"  My  solitude  is  terrible,"  he  writes  in  September 
from  Starnberg  to  Frau  Wille.  "  The  forlornness  of 
my  household,  the  obligation  to  concern  my  solitary 
self  with  things  for  which  I  never  was  made,  lames 
my  vital  spirits.  I  have  had  to  undergo  another 
removal,  to  arrange  an  establishment,  to  worry  myself 
about  knives,  forks,  dishes  and  saucepans,  bedclothes, 
etc. — I,  the  glorifier  of  women.  How  kindly  they 
repay  me,  by  leaving  me  their  business."  Later  in  the 
same  letter  comes  a  significant  phrase  :  "  Yesterday 
Frau  von  Bulow  arrived  with  two  children  and  nurse- 
maid ;  the  husband  will  follow." 

This  lady,  who  subsequently  was  to  exercise  so  large 
an  influence  in  Wagner's  life,  was  the  daughter  of 
Franz  Liszt  and  of  the  Comtesse  d'Agoulet,  who  had 
left  her  husband  to  become  the  companion  of  the 
famous  pianist  when  in  his  twenty-fourth  year,  and 
to  whom  she  bore  three  children,  the  youngest  of 
whom,  Cosima,  married  Herr  von  Bulow,  her  father's 
pupil.  During  his  first  visit  to  Paris,  Wagner  had 
been   introduced   to  Liszt  who,  the  favourite  of  for- 


Ube  IRomance  of  a  /iDaD  /IDouarcb         49 

tune  from  his  earliest  years,  was  an  object  of  jealousy 
to  one  rudely  repulsed  by  the  world.  Their  brief 
encounter  gave  neither  an  opportunity  to  pierce  the 
surface  of  mannerisms,  but  left  in  Wagner's  mind  a 
hostile  feeling  towards  Liszt.  His  free  expression 
of  this  reached  the  latter,  who  was  astonished  and 
concerned  at  giving  an  impression  it  had  never  been 
his  intention  to  convey,  and  who  with  his  natural, 
kindly,  and  sensitive  regard  for  the  feelings  of  others, 
strove  to  cancel  it.  But  Wagner,  constitutionally 
aggressive,  was  not  inclined  to  receive  his  friendly 
overtures.  Presently,  when  Liszt  heard  Rienzi^  he 
praised  it  so  widely  and  enthusiastically  as  to  influence 
the  opinions  of  many  regarding  it. 

In  1847  Franz  Liszt,  whose  tours  through  the 
capitals  of  Europe  caused  a  sensation  second  only  to 
that  of  a  Royal  progress — a  London  audience  alone 
having  the  distinction  of  hissing  his  performances — ■ 
suddenly  turned  his  back  upon  the  world,  and  having 
already  placed  the  Comtesse  D'Agoulet  and  his  children 
under  the  care  of  his  mother,  accepted  the  unimportant 
post  of  Capellmeister  in  the  little  town  of  Weimar, 
that  he  might  have  time  to  ponder  the  thoughts 
disturbing  his  soul.  Here,  where  he  was  the  centre 
of  a  circle  of  musicians  and  pupils,  Wagner  met  him 
again,  and  now  readily  acknowledged  the  generous 
and  lovable  traits  of  his  character.  His  highest 
admiration  of  Liszt  was  however   gained    on    hearing 

VOL.    I.  4 


50  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRoi^alt^ 

him  conduct  a  rehearsal  of  Tanfihauser,  for  Wagner 
then  recognised  in  him  "  my  second  self.  What  I 
had  felt  when  I  conceived  this  music,  he  felt  when 
he  performed  it  ;  what  I  had  wished  to  say  when  I 
wrote  down  the  notes,  he  said  when  he  made  them 
sound.     Miraculous." 

At  an  earlier  date  Wagner  had  become  acquainted 
with  one  destined  to  be  a  member  of  Liszt's  family. 
This  was  ,Hans  Guido  von  Bulow,  who,  on  hearing 
Rienzi  for  the  first  time  when  a  mere  lad  was  so 
dazed  and  excited  that  he  suddenly  lost  all  sense  of 
hearing  during  the  third  act.  That  such  an  experience 
was  not  more  common  was  to  many  a  source  of  regret, 
but  it  stirred  in  the  boy  an  admiration  that  was  only 
to  be  satisfied  by  an  introduction  to  the  composer. 
This  was  brought  about  when  von  Bulow  was  in 
his  sixteenth  year,  and  resulted  in  his  receiving 
excellent  advice  regarding  his  musical  education.  The 
final  touches  to  this  were  gained  from  Liszt,  whose 
youngest  daughter,  Cosima,  von  Bulow  married  in 
1857.  The  friendship  Wagner  felt  for  this  young 
man,  who  was  not  only  a  brilliant  pianist,  a  musical 
critic,  and  a  conductor  of  high  attainment,  but  was 
also  his  ardent  admirer,  was  strengthened  by  this 
union  with  a  daughter  of  his  most  helpful  ally. 
Anxious,  therefore,  to  benefit  von  Bulow  and  to  secure 
the  company  of  a  loyal  supporter  and  admirable 
interpreter  of  his  works,  Wagner  used    his    influence 


Ubc  IRomance  ot  a  /iDab  /IDoitarcb         51 

with  the  King  to  have  him  appointed  to  the  post  of 
Court  pianist.  But  before  this  was  obtained,  von  Bulow 
came  to  visit  him  "  in  the  most  worn-out  condition, 
with  overwrought  and  shattered  nerves,  found  bad 
cold  weather  all  the  time,  consequently  an  unhealthy 
climate,  and  fell  from  one  attack  of  illness  into  another. 
Add  to  it  a  tragic  marriage  ;  a  young,  most  ex- 
ceptionally gifted  wife,  the  very  image  of  Liszt,  but 
intellectually   his   superior." 

This  visit  paid  by  Herr  von  Bulow  and  his  wife 
in  July,  1864,  did  not  last  more  than  a  few  weeks, 
for  in  the  following  September,  before  Frau  von 
Bulow's  second  visit,  Wagner  complains  to  Frau  Wille 
that  he  is  quite  alone,  as  in  some  haunted  castle. 
A  house  in  Munich  had  not  yet  been  found  for  him, 
but  he  was  to  have  one  built,  though  that  would 
take  two  years.  Meantime,  "  I  won't  deny  that  this 
total  solitude  is  now  becoming  very  harmful  to  me  ; 
believe  me,  'tis  an  ailment  of  which  I  shall  bleed  away." 
Then  comes  one  of  those  glimpses  of  self-revealment 
marvellous  in  its  undulated  egotism.  "  However,  I 
have  a  young  King  who  really  loves  me  to  distraction  ; 
you  cannot  form  a  notion  of  it.  I  remember  a 
dream  from  my  earliest  youth,  where  I  dreamt  that 
Shakespeare  was  alive  and  I  was  looking  at  and  speak- 
ing with  him  truly  in  the  flesh ;  its  impression  was 
never  to  be  forgotten,  and  passed  into  the  yearning 
to    see    Beethoven  too  (who  also    was   already  dead). 


S2  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

Something  similar  must  be  taking  place  in  this  de- 
lightful being,  when  he  has  me  with  him.  He  tells 
me  he  can  scarcely  yet  believe  he  has  me  really.  No 
one  can  read  his  letters  to  me  without  awe  and  en- 
chantment. Liszt  considered  that  in  them  he  stood 
on  a  fully  equal  grade  of  receptivity  with  my  own 
productivity.  'Tis  a  miracle."  A  specimen  of  the 
King's  enthusiastic  letters  is  then  sent  to  Frau  Wille. 
In  October  Wagner  had  snatched  Bulow  "  from  his 
insanely  exhausting  employment,  and  supplied  him 
with  a  nobler  field  " — of  preparing  The  Flying  Dutchman 
for  performance.  The  composer  had  also  moved  by 
this  time  from  Starnberg  to  a  house  in  the  suburbs 
of  Munich,  given  to  him  by  his  patron,  and  furnished 
in  luxurious  style.  For  Wagner's  passion  for  silks 
and  velvets  of  gorgeous  colours  was  not  limited  to 
his  clothing,  but  extended  to  the  decoration  of  his 
rooms,  whose  walls  were  hung  and  whose  furniture 
was  draped  with  these  materials.  Here,  where  Frau 
von  Bulow  "  acted  as  a  kind  of  secretary,"  he  was 
happy  for  a  while  in  framing  various  schemes  for 
the  performance  of  his  music.  As  already  stated.  The 
Flying  Dutchman  was  given  in  December,  but  even 
before  that  time  it  was  settled  that  his  conception  of 
the  Nibelung  Tetralogy  should  be  carried  out,  on 
which,  he  says,  "  I  was  so  awestruck  by  this  heavenly 
prodigy  of  a  Royal  youth,  that  I  came  near  to  sinking 
on  my  knees  and  worshipping  him." 


Zbc  IRomance  of  a  /iDab  /iDonarcb         S3 

But  a  joy  as  great  came  to  him  when  his  enthraUingly 
beautiful  opera  Tristan,  now  eight  years  old,  but  as 
yet  never  performed,  was  selected  for  representation. 
All  that  money  could  do  in  providing  great  singers, 
splendid  scenery,  and  a  magnificent  orchestra  was  done 
by  the  King,  "  my  faithful  guardian  angel  ever  floating 
over  me  with  beauty  and  blessing,  full  of  childlike 
glee  at  my  content,  my  joy  at  the  growing  achievement  ; 
ever  ordering  unseen  what  served  me,  removing  what 
was  cumbrous  to  me."  In  a  letter  published  in  a 
Vienna  newspaper,  Wagner  invited  his  friends  and 
admirers  throughout  Europe  to  journey  to  Munich 
that  they  might  hear  this  wonderful  opera.  A  private 
representation  witnessed  by  the  King  was  given  on 
June  8th,  1865,  followed  by  three  pubHc  performances 
during  the  month.  These  were  conducted  by  Herr 
von  Bulow,  whom  the  composer  speaks  of  as  "  a 
second  ego,  who  knows  by  heart  every  minute  detail 
of  this  score,  which  to  many  still  appears  such  a 
riddle,"  and  were  witnessed  by  a  number  of  those  who 
had  responded  to  Wagner's  invitation.  Chiefly  owing 
to  their  presence,  as  well  as  to  Royal  patronage,  Tristan 
was  enthusiastically  received  ;  but  as  it  was  not  sung 
again  in  Munich  for  four  years,  and  as  it  was  coldly 
commented  on  by  the  press,  the  public  at  large  seemed 
unconscious  that  a  priceless  gift  had  been  given  to 
the  world  in  this  enchanting  love  tragedy. 

The  King  was  enthusiastic  over  the  opera,  and    in 


54  XTbe  IRotiiance  of  IRogalt^ 

a  letter  addressed  to  Wagner,  whom  in  this  (which 
found  its  way  into  the  Echo  Artistique)  he  calls  "  My 
Exalted  and  Sublime  Friend,"  he  declares  he  can 
hardly  curb  his  impatience  until  he  hears  it  again. 
"  I  am  enchanted,"  he  continues,  "  it  has  laid  hold 
of  me  ;  I  burn  with  longing  for  a  repetition  of  the 
first  delight.  Who  could  see  it,  who  could  hear  it, 
without  blessing  you  ?  It  is  so  splendid,  so  pure, 
so  elevated,  that  the  soul  feels  everlastingly  refreshed. 
Hail  to  the  creator.  I  kneel  before  him.  .  .  .  Please 
make  me  happy  by  writing  soon.  It  is  not  true, 
my  dear  friend,  that  the  power  of  creating  will  ever 
leave  you.  In  the  name  of  one  who  is  filled  with 
admiration  for  you,  I  beg  of  you  not  to  abandon  him 
who  only  has  God  to  depend  upon — you  and  God. 
Until  death,  and  after  in  that  kingdom  beyond, 
your  faithful   Ludwig." 

Two  singers  had  largely  won  it  such  success  as  it 
had  gained.  These  were  Herr  Schnorr  and  his  wife, 
"  a  wonderful  pair  of  artists,  bestowed  by  heaven, 
inwardly  versed  and  most  fondly  devoted,  gifted  to 
astonishment."  On  their  intelligent  and  appreciative 
interpretation  of  this  work,  Wagner  had  counted  as 
a  factor  in  popularising  it  ;  so  that  when,  a  week 
after  the  third  public  performance  of  'Tristan^  news 
came  from  Dresden  that  Schnorr  was  dead,  Wagner 
felt  the  blow  keenly.  Unwilling  to  see  any  one,  he 
shut    himself   up    in    his    house,  and,  as  he   says,  felt 


XLbc  IRomance  ot  a  /llba&  /llbonarcb         s5 

more  lonely  there  than  when  in  the  lofty  hills.  In 
this  state  of  depression  his  sole  consolation  was  what 
he  describes  as  the  wondrous  love  of  the  King.  "  He 
cares  for  me  as  never  man  cared  for  another.  In 
him  I  revive,  and  for  him  will  I  still  create  my  works. 
For  myself  I,  strictly  speaking,  live  no  more.  Yet 
he  keeps  everything  aloof  from  me  that  would  remind 
me  of  life  and  actuality  ;  henceforth  I  can  do  nothing 
but  dream  and  create." 

But  forces  were  at  work  that  soon  roused  Wagner 
from  his  melancholy.  In  stating,  within  a  few  weeks 
of  his  arrival  at  Ludwig's  Court,  that  in  time  the 
Royal  entourage  would  all  like  him,  and  that  already 
they  were  happy  to  know  that  his  influence  over  the 
King  tended  to  good,  he  had  taken  one  of  those 
views  of  himself  that  was  not  shared  by  others  ;  for 
almost  from  the  first  he  had  roused  their  distrust 
and  jealousy,  possibly  from  his  authoritative  manner 
and  self-assurance,  certainly  from  his  assumption  of 
intimacy  with  the  King,  into  whose  presence  he  went 
unannounced,  and  whom  he  left  without  ceremony 
when  he  pleased,  and  finally  because  of  the  many 
favours  he  received  from  this  hero-worshipping  youth. 
Feelings  of  disHke  of  the  composer  rapidly  spread 
from  the  courtiers  to  the  public.  That  their  ruler 
should  lavish  money  on  the  productions  of  one  whose 
music  had  been  censured  and  ridiculed  in  almost 
every  capital  of  Europe  sorely  vexed  them  ;  and  this 


56  Ubc  IRomance  ot  IRo^alts 

feeling  rose  with  a  bound  when  it  was  known  that 
his  Majesty  proposed  to  expend  seven  milHon  marks 
in  erecting  a  theatre,  chiefly  for  the  performance  of  the 
favourite's  music,  on  the  site  of  the  Maximihaneum,  a 
high  preparatory  school  for  civil  servants  founded  by 
the  late  King,  whose  intentions  were  so  far  disregarded 
that  the  building  was  stopped  that  the  money  to  be 
spent  on  it  might  be  saved  for  Wagner's  designs. 

His  Majesty's  Ministers  were  not  slow  to  share 
the  general  sentiment  of  uneasiness,  and  to  show  their 
disappointment  in  a  Sovereign  who  at  a  time  when 
the  Schleswig-Holstein  war  was  agitating  all  Germany, 
made  the  building  of  an  opera-house  a  subject  of 
debate  in  his  Cabinet.  That  he  desired  to  spend  on 
this  structure  money  which  was  needed  elsewhere,  and 
devoted  to  the  discussion  of  music  the  time  which 
should  be  given  to  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom  was 
additional  matter  for  dissatisfaction.  Added  to  this 
was  the  dread  entertained  by  the  religious  section  of 
the  populace  of  the  influence  exercised  over  their 
King  by  one  known  to  be  an  admirer  of  Schopen- 
hauer, who  mocked  at  fiith  and  reviled  the  Church. 
Wagner's  intention,  it  was  stated,  was  to  place  the 
theatre  in  a  relation  to  the  people  which  had  hereto- 
fore been  held  by  religion.  Politicians  added  their 
voice  to  the  chorus  of  his  denunciation  by  declaring 
that  he  used  his  authority  over  the  King  to  favour 
the  policy  of  Prussia. 


Zbc  IRomance  of  a  flDat)  /IDonarcb         s7 

The  agitation  against  him  which  raged  in  Munich 
spread  through  Bavaria  and  crossed  the  frontiers,  its 
progress  inflamed  and  aided  by  the  press.  A  Berlin 
paper,  the  Vossische  Zeitung^  hinted  that  "  the 
revelations  regarding  the  abyss  into  which  honest 
Bavaria,  together  with  its  old  dynasty,  was  to  be 
precipitated  by  Richard  Wagner  are  becoming  more 
and  more  gruesome."  Other  journals  charged  him 
with  obtaining  large  sums  of  money  from  an  infatuated 
young  man  ;  pointed  out  that  he  who  recently  was 
a  fugitive  from  creditors  was  now  living  in  luxury  ; 
and  severely  commented  on  his  private  life.  Such 
a  combination  of  exaggeration,  falsehood,  and  censure 
deeply  wounded  one  so  sensitive  to  criticism  ;  but  as 
he  was  not  a  man  to  suffer  in  silence,  he  published 
in  the  friendly  Allgemeine  Zeitung  a  reply  to  his 
accusers  that  filled  three  columns. 

The  undisturbed  repose  and  opportunity  to  work 
afforded  him  by  his  Royal  patron,  after  years  of  bitter 
struggle  and  toil,  had  been  suddenly  disturbed,  he 
said,  by  attacks  on  his  personality,  "  by  a  storm  of 
public  accusations  such  as  ordinarily  get  into  the  papers 
only  from  the  law-courts,  and  even  from  there  only 
with  certain  traditional  considerations.  I  have  been 
in  London  and  Paris  when  my  art  works  and 
tendencies  were  unmercifully  ridiculed  by  the  news- 
papers, my  works  dragged  into  the  dust  and  hissed 
in    the    theatre ;    but    that    my    person,    my    private 


5 8  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

character,  my  civic  qualities  and  domestic  habits  should 
be  exposed  to  the  public  abuse  in  the  most  dis- 
honourable manner,  that  is  an  experience  which  was 
reserved  for  me  till  I  came  to  a  place  where  my 
works  are  appreciated,  my  aims  and  tendencies  ac- 
knowledged to  possess  manly  seriousness  and  noble 
significance."  The  emoluments  he  received  from  his 
Majesty,  Wagner  continued,  did  not  exceed  what 
Bavarian  kings  had  previously  granted  to  artists  and 
scientists.  And  having  a  right  to  regard  himself  not 
as  a  favourite,  but  as  an  artist  adequately  paid  for 
his  work,  he  did  not  consider  himself  called  upon  to 
give  an  account  of  his  expenditure  to  any  one.  But 
how  highly  he  appreciated  the  good  luck  of  having 
unexpectedly  found  the  magnanimous  patron  "  who 
knew  how  to  appreciate  the  value  of  my  boldest 
artistic  plan  "  was  evident  from  the  fact  that  he  had 
become  a  naturalised  subject  of  Bavaria. 

Concerning  this  refutation,  as  he  terms  his  reply, 
Wagner  writes  to  Frau  Wille  that  it  contains  but 
one  subterfuge,  "  touching  the  limitedness  of  my 
relations  with  the  King."  From  this  letter  it  is 
evident  that  no  selfish  thought  regarding  the  advance- 
ment of  his  works,  the  position  and  comfort  he 
enjoyed,  the  rewards  granted  him,  prevented  Wagner 
from  quitting  Munich,  but  that  he  was  kept  there 
because  of  the  desperate  condition  into  which  such 
a  step  must  inevitably  plunge  his   Majesty.      For  even 


XLbc  IRomance  of  a  /IDa^  /IRonarcb         59 

if  he  were  to  renounce  the  rights  given  him  by  "  this 
wonderfully  deep  and  fatalistic  liking  of  the  King 
for  me,"  yet  he  could  not  "  reconcile  it  with  my 
heart,  my  conscience,  to  shuffle  off  the  duties  it  imposes 
on  me.  ...  I  can  but  shudder  at  the  thought  of 
withdrawing  within  the  bounds  demanded  by  my 
own  repose,  and  leaving  him  to  his  surroundings. 
I  quake  in  the  depths  of  my  soul,  and  ask  my  daemon. 
Why  this  cup  ^  Why,  when  I  sought  for  rest  and 
leisure  undisturbed  for  work,  am  I  involved  in  a 
responsibility  which  places  in  my  hands  the  weal  of 
a  divinely  gifted  human  being,  perhaps  the  welfare 
of  a  land  ,''  How  save  my  heart  here  .'*  How  still  be 
artist  too  ?  He  lacks  every  man  he  needs.  This, 
this  is  my  veritable  torment.  The  outward  game 
of  intrigue,  simply  reckoned  to  throw  me  off  my 
balance,  and  draw  from  me  an  indiscretion,  easily 
recoils  on  itself.  But  what  an  energy,  destructive 
of  my  peace  for  ever,  should  I  require  to  snatch  my 
youthful  friend  for  ever  from  his  entourage.  He 
keeps  loyal,  touchingly  true  to  me,  and  shuts  himself 
just  now  from  every  one." 

The  belief  of  this  supreme  egotist  in  his  influence 
over  Ludwig  suffers  from  a  statement  inadvertently 
made  by  him  to  his  friend  Herr  Wille,  to  the  effect 
that  whenever  he  (Wagner)  talked  about  politics,  his 
Majesty  looked  at  the  ceiling  and  whistled.  If  it  were 
possible,  his  overwhelming  estimate  of  his  own  import- 


6o  Uhc  IRomance  ot  IRo^alts 

ance   must    have    received    a    shock  when   he  was  re- 
quested by  the  King  to  leave  Munich.     For  the  storm 
against  the  favourite  had  risen   to  such   a  height  that 
in  December,! 865,  the  Chief  of  PoHce  waited  on  the 
King  and  stated  that  if  Wagner  were  not  banished,  a 
revolution  might  be  expected.     His  Majesty  was  not 
left   in  doubt   regarding   the  truth  of  this  statement  ; 
for  aware  of  the  officer's  mission,  an  agitated,  threaten- 
ing crowd  had  gathered  in  front  of  the  Royal  palace 
to  receive  the  Sovereign's  answer  in  person.     Though 
grieved    that    a    man   of  genius  whom   he  patronised 
must  be   sent   away,   Ludwig   did    not   hesitate   in  his 
decision,  but    stepping    on   to    a    balcony   overlooking 
the  black  surging  mass   of  people,  he  told  them  that 
the  wishes  of  the  nation  were  paramount  to  him,  and 
he  would  show  his  dear  people  that  he  placed  its  con- 
fidence and   love  beyond    all   other  considerations,  by 
granting  their  desire.     His  words  were  received  with 
ringing  cheers  and  shouts  for  blessings   on  his  head; 
and    in    this   way    a    threatened    danger  was    avoided. 
That  the  kingdom  should  have  been  brought  to    the 
verge  of  insurrection  by  an  eighteen-months'  residence 
in  its  capital  of  a  musician  seems  extraordinary,  and 
speaks  volumes  for  the  character  of  the  man. 

Though  stubborn  things  in  themselves,  facts  assume 
different  aspects  when  viewed  by  different  people. 
Wagner's  opinion  of  this  event,  as  related  to  his 
friends,  varied  from  that  written  in  the  official  docu- 


Hbc  IRomance  of  a  /^^a^  /IDonarcb         6t 

ments  of  Munich,  According  to  him,  it  was  repre- 
sented to  the  King  that  his  (Wagner's)  life  was  in 
danger,  when  his  Majesty  implored  him  to  leave. 
Like  all  egotists,  he  was  unable  to  conceive  the  hopeless 
darkness  of  those  who  were  blind  to  his  attractions, 
and  he  scornfully  scouts  the  suggestion  of  his  un- 
popularity. "  The  people  opposed  to  me  ?  "  he  says  in 
astonishment.  "  No,  not  if  they  knew  me."  He 
therefore  left  Munich,  not  to  escape  the  wrath  of  its 
indignant  citizens,  but  that,  deprived  of  his  presence, 
the  Sovereign  might  be  chastened  and  strengthened. 
"  At  the  moment,  it  is  requisite  to  leave  the  young 
King  time  to  learn  to  rule  a  little  and  be  master," 
he  tells  Frau  Wille,  who  by  the  way,  disapproved 
of  his  influence  over  the  King,  and  on  that  account 
had  refused  an  invitation  to  hear  Tristan  performed 
for  the  first  time.  "  The  school  of  present  sufferings 
will  be  good  for  him.  His  too  great  love  for  me  had 
made  him  blind  to  all  other  relations  around  him,  so 
that  he  was  easy  to  dupe.  He  reads  nobody,  and 
must  begin  to  learn  mankind.  But  I  have  hope  for 
him.  Just  as  I  am  sure  of  his  love  for  ever,  do  I 
also  trust  to  the  development  of  his  splendid  parts. 
He  only  needs  to  learn  to  know  men  rather  better. 
Then  he  will  soon  hit  the  mark." 

In  leaving  Munich  Wagner  felt  assured,  as  he  stated, 
that  his  return  was  merely  a  question  of  time,  "  until 
the  King  is  able  to  change  his  advisers."     However,  he 


62  Ubc  IRomatice  ot  IRo^alt^ 

was  to  learn  that  no  matter  what  sacrifice  it  might 
entail  on  the  citizens  of  Munich,  he  was  never  more 
to  dwell  permanently  among  them. 

Such  disappointment  as  Wagner  must  have  felt 
in  being  obliged  to  leave  Munich  was  modified 
when  Ludwig  raised  his  pension  to  about  eight 
hundred  pounds  a  year.  With  this  to  his  credit  the 
composer  quitted  the  Bavarian  capital  in  December, 
1865,  and  going  first  to  Vevey  and  Geneva,  afterwards 
travelled  through  the  south  of  France  for  the  benefit 
of  his  health.  While  enjoying  his  ease  in  that  gayest, 
most  cosmopolitan  of  cities,  Marseilles,  news  reached 
him  that  his  wife  had  died  of  heart  disease  in  Dresden 
on  January  25th,  1866.  Notwithstanding  their  separa- 
tion, his  memories  must  have  been  tender  and  regretful 
of  this  gentle  woman  who  had  shared  his  bitterest 
hardships  but  not  his  triumphs,  who  had  worshipped 
him  blindly,  slaved  for  him,  and  been  his  partner 
while  he  conceived  some  of  his  greatest  work,  whose 
sole  defect  was  her  inability  to  understand  the  be- 
wildering moods  that  were  attendants  on  his  genius, 
and  who  though  neglected  and  having  cause  for 
jealousy,  had  shown  her  faithfulness  unto  death  by 
her  recent  defence  of  him  in  the  press  when  he  had 
been  accused  of  allowing  her  to  starve.  A  marble 
cross  was  erected  by  Wagner  above  the  resting-place 
of  his  wife,  of  whom  he  never  afterwards  spoke  but 
with  respect,  if  not  regret. 


Z\K  H^omance  of  a  /Iftab  /Iftonaixb         63 

From  Marseilles  he  turned  longing  eyes  toward 
the  glow  and  colour  of  Italy,  but  hearing  that  "  the 
devil  was  playing  his  pranks  against  him "  at  the 
Court  of  his  Bavarian  Majesty,  Wagner  wisely  resolved 
not  to  risk  the  loss  of  his  influence  with  Ludwig  by 
placing  a  considerable  distance  between  them.  He 
therefore  quickly  retraced  his  route,  his  reason  for 
giving  up  a  holiday  in  a  country  that  appealed  to 
the  rich  sensuousness  of  his  temperament  being,  ac- 
cording to  the  explanation  given  by  him  to  the 
Baroness  von  Meysenbug,  and  no  doubt  believed 
in  by  himself,  that  "  I  durst  not  go  too  far  from 
Munich,  if  I  would  prevent  the  young  King's 
abdication." 

Aware  that  it  was  inadvisable  for  him  to  settle  in 
Bavaria,  he  eventually  decided  to  live  not  far  removed 
from  its  frontier,  and  in  April,  1866,  took  a  lease 
for  six  years  of  an  isolated,  roomy  country  house 
standing  on  a  headland  known  as  Triebschen,  and 
giving  delightful  views  of  the  steep  and  desolate 
heights  of  Mount  Pilatus,  the  sunnier  slopes  of  the 
Rigi,  and  the  glittering  expanse  of  Lake  Lucerne, 
but  two  miles  distant.  Before  removing  the  furni- 
ture, decorations,  and  brocades  from  his  house  In  the 
suburbs  of  Munich,  which  he  was  to  inhabit  no  more, 
Wagner  had  various  alterations  made  in  his  new  two- 
storied  residence.  Here  he  was  presently  joined  by 
his    "  noble,    ministering    friend,"    Frau    yon    Bulow 


64  trbe  IRoinance  of  IRo^alt^ 

and  her  children,   the  husband   following  later  on,  as 
usual. 

The  loneliness  of  his  situation  prevented  interrup- 
tions to  his  work,  and  as  his  exile  from  Munich 
seemed  to  end  his  chances  of  producing  the  Nibelung 
Ring  operas,  he  once  more  turned  to  the  composition 
of  Die  Meister singer^  his  only  comic  opera.  Few 
visitors  intruded,  but  one  came  occasionally,  unex- 
pectedly, generally  arriving  at  dead  of  night  or  in 
the  grey  of  dawn.  For  still  under  the  sway  of 
Wagner's  magnetic  influence,  Ludwig,  when  restless 
and  weary  of  his  surroundings  would,  selecting  dark- 
ness as  his  time,  mount  his  fleetest  horse,  and  secretly 
leaving  the  palace  take  his  way  through  the  silent 
echoing  streets  of  the  capital,  pass  tlie  deep  portals 
of  its  gates,  and  gaining  the  open  country,  gallop 
recklessly  until  he  had  crossed  the  frontier  and  reached 
Triebschen,  exhausted  from  the  long  ride.  Here  he 
would  remain  two  or  three  days,  listening  to  the 
composer's  exuberant  talk,  and  his  grandiose  schemes 
for  the  future  ;  the  place  of  his  Majesty's  stay  being 
unknown  to,  but  suspected  by  his  Ministers  and 
courtiers.  Then  in  the  same  mysterious  way  Ludwig 
returned  to  Munich.  His  desire  that  none  should 
recognise  him  while  he  paid  these  visits,  occasionally 
led  to  amusing  mistakes  ;  one  of  which  is  related  by 
Catulle  Mendes,  the  French  poet,  in  his  little  book, 
Richard     Wagner.       While     enjoying    a     holiday    in 


trbe  IRomance  of  a  /llba&  /IRonarcb         65 

Switzerland,  he  resolved  to  call  on  Wagner,  whom  he 
had  known  in  Paris.  On  putting  up  at  an  hotel  in 
Lucerne,  he  was  met  with  questioning  glances,  and 
on  his  ordering  a  carriage  to  take  him  to  Triebschen, 
was  overwhelmed  by  signs  of  the  utmost  respect  ;  the 
servants  bowing  low  as  they  passed,  people  in  the 
streets  uncovering  as  he  approached,  the  landlord 
kissing  his  hands.  On  asking  why  he  was  treated  in 
this  bewildering  manner,  the  host  let  it  be  known 
that  he  appreciated  the  high  honour  done  him  by 
King  Ludwig  in  staying  under  his  roof;  and  when 
the  poet  laughingly  assured  him  he  was  mistaken,  the 
landlord,  still  preserving  his  grave  and  comprehensive 
expression,  replied,  "  Sire,  everything  shall  be  in 
accordance  with  your  Majesty's  wishes  ;  and  since  that 
is  desired,  your  Majesty's  incognito  will  be  respected." 
And  in  this  way  the  poet  had  greatness  thrust  upon 
him. 

The  composer  received  him  in  his  villa,  whose  walls 
were  hung  with  "luminous  stuffs  that  spread  them- 
selves like  sheets  of  flame."  Nor  was  his  attire  un- 
worthy of  such  surroundings,  his  "  coat  and  trousers 
of  golden  satin  embroidered  with  pearl  flowers," 
making  his  sturdy  figure  as  it  darted  backwards  and 
forwards  a  dazzling  and  bizarre  object  against  a 
background  of  gorgeous  colour.  That  he  should 
delight  in  wearing  fantastic  costumes  and  devote  such 
pains    to    designing   them,    is    one    of  those    curious 

VOL.  I.  5 


66  XLbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

psychological  traits  in  the  character  of  a  man  of 
genius  which  makes  its  study  profoundly  interesting. 
For  though  absorbed  in  his  marvellous  compositions, 
in  his  endeavours  to  place  them  fittingly  on  the 
stage,  in  his  quarrels  with  critics  and  enemies,  he 
yet  found  time  to  write  letters  to  his  dressmaker, 
full  of  minute  details  and  illustrated  by  sketches. 
Sixteen  of  these,  beginning  soon  after  he  had  settled 
in  Munich,  and  covering  a  space  of  four  years,  were 
published  during  his  lifetime  in  the  Neue  Freie 
Presse.  For  the  brief  extract  given  here  to  illustrate 
the  interest  he  took  in  his  clothes,  I  am  indebted 
to  the  translation  made  by  Mr.  Henry  T.  Finck 
and  quoted  in  his  book  Wagner  and  his  Works. 
Having  ordered  a  dressing-gown  of  pink  satin,  the 
Master  says  it  must  be  "  stuffed  with  eiderdown 
and  quilted  in  squares,  like  the  grey  and  red  cover- 
let I  had  of  you  ;  exactly  that  substance,  light,  not 
heavy  ;  of  course  with  the  upper  and  under  material 
quilted  together.  .  .  .  Then  put  on  extra,  not  sewn  on 
to  the  quilted  material,  a  padded  ruching  all  round 
of  the  same  material  ;  from  the  waist  the  ruching 
must  extend  downwards  into  a  raised  facing  (or 
garniture)  cutting  off  the  front  part.  Study  the 
drawing  carefully  ;  at  the  bottom  the  facing  or 
Schopp,  which  must  be  worked  in  a  particularly 
beautiful  manner,  is  to  spread  out  on  both  sides  to 
half  an  ell   in  width,   and   then   rising    to    the    waist, 


tlbe  IRomance  of  a  /Iftab  /iDonarcb         67 

lose  itself  in  the  ordinary  width  of  the  padded  ruch- 
ing  which  runs  all  round." 

Meantime  his  Majesty's  subjects  began  to  look 
forward  to  his  marriage,  which  it  was  hoped  would 
free  him  from  the  dominating  influence  of  Wagner, 
and  turn  his  attention  from  music-dramas  to  domestic 
life,  and  from  an  interest  in  the  affairs  of  an  opera- 
house  to  those  of  his  kingdom.  That  he  had  reached 
his  twentieth  year  without  falling  in  love  was  a 
singular  fact  that  proved  his  unlikeness  to  other  men  ; 
but  with  a  temperament  that  found  its  supreme  en- 
joyment in  idealism,  the  more  ordinary  and  human 
pleasures  of  life  scarcely  appealed  to  him.  Being 
quite  unconcerned  about  that  which,  to  the  more 
egotistical,  is  considered  of  the  utmost  importance — 
the  choice  of  a  life-partner — he  showed  no  interest 
in  any  one  of  the  eligible  princesses  who  were 
suggested  to  him  as  a  future  wife.  He  therefore 
readily  agreed  to  the  choice  made  by  his  mother, 
who  on  his  behalf  proposed  to  her  niece,  the 
Princess  Sophie  Charlotte  of  Bavaria.  Aware  that 
insanity  tainted  his  descent  from  the  Hohenzollern 
and  the  Wittelsbach  lines,  it  seems  amazing,  with  a 
view  to  his  probable  posterity,  that  she  should  have 
selected  his  cousin  for  his  bride.  Otherwise  none 
more  fitting  could  be  found  than  this  Princess,  the 
youngest  daughter  of  Duke  Maximilian  of  Bavaria, 
and    the   youngest    sister  of  the  Empress  of  Austria. 


68  tlfte  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

Two  years  his  junior,  beautiful,  gracious,  and  a  lover 
of  art,  it  was  hoped  that  the  Princess  Sophie  would 
soon  win  her  way  to  his  heart  and  make  him  an  ideal 
wife.  The  announcement  of  their  engagement,  made 
public  in  Jannary,  1867,  was  received  with  universal 
joy  by  his  subjects,  who  immediately  began  to  prepare 
for  the  wedding,  the  date  of  which  was  not  then  fixed. 
Early  in  the  year  schemes  were  drawn  up  for 
decorating  the  capital  on  the  wedding  day  ;  the  King's 
grandfather,  the  lover  of  Lola  Montez,  wrote  an 
ode  comparing  the  Royal  pair  to  Venus  and  Adonis  ; 
every  workshop  in  Munich  was  busy  manufacturing 
articles  for  the  coming  festivities  ;  medals  with  en- 
graved portraits  of  the  King  and  his  future  Queen 
were  struck  for  distribution  on  their  wedding  day  ; 
the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  her  Majesty's  Household 
were  appointed  ;  and  a  magnificent  bridal  carriage, 
painted  with  rose-wreathed  cupids,  and  emblazoned 
with  gold,  was  built  for  the  Royal  couple  at  a  cost 
of  a  million  gulden.  For  a  time  Ludwig  conscien- 
tiously and  coldly  played  the  part  required  of  him, 
for  he  drove  with  his  bride-elect  through  the  streets  ; 
sat  beside  her  at  a  State  performance  at  the  theatre  ; 
and  rowed  her  in  his  boat,  the  Tristan,  about  Lake 
Starnberg.  His  listlessness  and  silence  on  these 
occasions  were  set  down  to  his  natural  shyness  and 
dislike  to  publicity.  His  mother,  who  disliked  Wagner, 
believed    his    influence   over   her    son  was  now  at  an 


XTbe  IRomance  of  a  /IDa^  /IDonavcb         69 

end  ;  but  in  this  she  was  mistaken.  For  when,  in 
the  March  of  this  year,  the  composer  desired  to  give 
a  performance  in  Munich  of  Lohengrin^  with  every 
accessory  that  could  ensure  its  success,  and  without  the 
cuts  that  had  been  made  at  its  former  productions, 
Ludwig  was  as  willing  as  ever  to  supply  the  necessary 
funds,  and  to  interest  himself  in  its  details. 

It  was  at  the  rehearsals  which  followed  that  a  mis- 
understanding took  place  between  Wagner  and  his 
Majesty,  for  the  latter's  love  of  beauty  of  form  being 
offended  by  the  obese  figures  of  two  of  the  singers,  he 
declared  he  would  not  attend  a  performance  or  rehearsal 
in  which  they  took  part.  The  following  sentences 
from  a  letter  of  Wagner's  regarding  this  disagreement 
give  further  proof  that  it  was  not  his  music  but  his 
dramas  that  appealed  to  his  Royal  patron.  Having 
mentioned  Ludwig's  dislike  to  Tichatschek's  acting, 
"  for  he  had  sung  splendidly,  "  says  Wagner,  *'  I  felt 
that  the  King's  enthusiasm  inclined  to  the  spectacular, 
and  where  this  was  defective  he  could  not  elsewhere 
find  compensation.  But  now  comes  the  outrage. 
Without  consulting  me,  he  ordered  Tichatschek  and 
the  *  Ortrud '  to  be  sent  away.  I  was,  and  am, 
furious,  and  forthwith  mean  to  quit  Munich."  It 
was  probably  to  this  incident  that  Wagner  referred 
later  on  when  telling  Ferdinand  Praeger  of  certain 
blunt  speeches  he  had  made  to  the  King.  Hearing 
them,  Praeger  begged  the  composer  to  remember  the 


70  XTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

sore  straits  and  bitter  humiliations  he  had  known 
before  he  was  sent  for  to  Munich,  on  which  he  burst 
out,  "I  have  lived  before  without  the  King,  and  I 
can  do  so  again,"  He  did  not  however  risk  the 
experience  of  living  without  Royal  patronage  ;  but 
though  he  did  not  honour  this  performance  of 
Lohengrin  with  his  presence,  it  must  be  recorded  to 
his  credit  that  he  graciously  pardoned  the  "outrage" 
his  Majesty  had  committed. 

Ludwig's  marriage  was  now  fixed  to  take  place  in 
October,  1867,  and  as  the  time  drew  near  little  else 
was  talked  of  throughout  the  kingdom  than  the 
splendid  festivities  which  were  to  celebrate  it.  There- 
fore inexpressible  disappointment  and  regret  were  felt 
when,  without  warning,  without  any  known  cause,  an 
announcement  appeared  one  morning  in  the  court 
journal  briefly  stating  that  his  Majesty's  marriage 
with  the  Princess  Sophie  would  not  take  place.  None 
was  more  grieved,  more  mortified,  by  this  decision 
than  the  Queen  ;  who,  justly  or  unjustly,  thought 
it  was  due  to  Wagner,  who  wished  to  keep  her  son 
under  his  own  undivided  influence  for  the  further- 
ance  of  his  own   designs. 

But  as  yet  she  did  not  despair  of  seeing  Ludwig 
happily  married  to  some  Austrian  archduchess  or 
Bourbon  princess  ;  and  for  that  purpose,  and  without 
his  consent  or  knowledge,  she  carried  on  negotiations 
with  their  parents.     One  of  these,  willing  to  become 


Ube  IRomancc  of  a  /IC>a&  /iRonarcb         71 

his  consort,  who  came  to  stay  with  the  Queen, 
found  it  difficult  to  believe  that  her  own  beauty  and 
fascinations  could  not  captivate  the  King  if  only 
opportunity  were  given  her.  As  it  was  not,  she 
determined  to  seek  it.  So  one  day,  by  accident 
carefully  arranged,  while  he  was  walking  alone  in 
his  private  garden,  into  which  all  others  were 
forbidden  to  enter  while  he  was  there,  he  came  at 
the  turn  of  a  pathway  face  to  face  with  a  blooming 
Hebe  innocently  gathering  flowers.  Instead  of  the 
admiration  and  welcome  she  expected  to  receive,  she 
was  greeted  by  a  torrent  of  angry  words  which  drove 
her  from  the  picturesque  scene  she  had  selected 
for  her  appearance.  Suspecting  that  this  was  a 
contrivance  of  his  mother's,  an  interview  with  her 
followed,  when  he  told  her  he  intended  never  to 
marry.  Angry  words  were  spoken  which  were  never 
quite  forgotten  by  either,  and  during  the  remainder 
of  his  life  they   met   but  seldom. 

In  the  spring  of  the  following  year  (1868)  Wagner 
was  busily  preparing  his  new  opera,  the  Meistersinger, 
for  production  at  the  Munich  theatre.  Frequent 
and  careful  rehearsals,  at  which  the  King  was  occasion- 
ally present,  were  conducted  by  Bulow  under  the 
directions  of  the  composer,  who  during  the  time 
walked  up  and  down  the  stage  with  short  steps, 
his  hands  in  his  pockets.  Now  and  then  he  would 
fling   himself  into  a  chair  beside   the  prompter's  box, 


72  Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

"  nodding  his  head  in  a  satisfied  and  pleased  way, 
and  smiling  all  over  his  face.  But  if  anything  in  the 
orchestra  displeases  him,"  says  a  Viennese  journalist, 
"which  happens  not  infrequently,  he  jumps  up  as 
if  a  snake  had  bitten  him,  claps  his  hands,  and  calls 
to  the  orchestra,  after  Bulow  has  rapped  for  silence, 
*  Piano,  gentlemen,  piano.  That  must  be  played  softly, 
softly,  softly,  as  if  it  came  to  us  from  another  world.' 
And  the  orchestra  begins  again." 

The  Meistersinger  was  sung  for  the  first  time  on 
June  21  St,  1868,  before  a  crowded  audience  that  in- 
cluded the  King.  Beside  him  in  the  Royal  box  sat 
Wagner.  At  the  end  of  this  delightful  work,  an 
enthusiastic  house  called  for  the  composer,  who,  instead 
of  going  on  the  stage  to  receive  its  congratulations, 
rose  from  his  seat  and  bowed.  This  act,  said  to 
have  been  suggested  by  the  King,  was  regarded  by  the 
public  as  a  piece  of  unwarrantable  presumption,  and 
was  condemned  by  the  press  as  impudent  self-assertion. 
Though  the  opera  was  a  complete  success,  it  did  not 
escape  scathing  criticisms  which  are  amusing  to  read. 
One  famous  critic  spoke  of  its  "  poisoned  counter- 
point"  and  "its  ugly  rioting  of  dissonances  that 
make  one's  hair  stand  on  end."  Another,  not  less 
well  known,  thought  it  "  the  craziest  assault  ever 
made  on  art,  taste,  music,  and  poetry "  ;  while  a 
Berlin  scribe  spoke  of  it  as  "  the  most  horrible 
caterwauling  that  could  be  devised." 


Zhc  IRoinance  of  a  /lDa&  /iDonarcb         73 

Besides  attending  public  performances  of  Wagner's 
operas,  Ludwig  occasionally  had  them  sung  to  him 
in  his  private  theatre,  when,  that  he  might  escape  the 
distraction  and  nervous  irritation  which  the  presence 
of  others  causes  in  moments  of  strained  attention, 
he  listened  quite  alone,  and  in  darkness  that  was 
relieved  only  by  the  lighting  of  the  stage.  At  times 
he  also  summoned  opera-singers  to  the  palace.  These 
it  was  his  pleasure  to  listen  to  as  he  glided  noise- 
lessly over  the  lake  in  the  winter  garden  he  had 
constructed  at  enormous  expense  on  the  top  of  the 
Royal  residence  in  Munich,  and  which  was  so  large  that 
it  extended  along  the  whole  length  of  the  west  wing 
of  the  palace.  Interiorly  its  colour,  splendour,  and 
perfume  made  it  seem  an  enchanted  place.  Countless 
roses  hung  from  its  high  arched  roof ;  thousands 
of  lights  glowed  softly  from  under  the  leaves  of 
palms,  plantains,  and  other  tropical  trees  ;  from  its 
blossoming  shrubberies  rose  the  slender  minarets 
and  glittering  cupolas  of  kiosks  ;  paroquets  flew  from 
branch  to  branch  ;  waterfalls  splashed  musically  ;  on  the 
walls  views  of  the  Himalaya  mountains  were  painted 
so  skilfully  as  to  give  an  impression  of  space  and 
distance  ;  the  waters  of  the  lake  were  coloured  blue 
and  scented  with  violets  ;  while  its  banks  were  covered 
with  hyacinths  and  orchids.  Here  in  a  golden  boat 
shaped  like  that  in  which  Lohengrin  appears,  and 
propelled  by  a  mechanical  swan,  his  Majesty,  clad  in 


74  TLbc  IRomancc  of  IRo^alt^ 

silver  armour  like  that  enchanted  knight,  spent  the 
hours  when  the  world  slept,  listening  to  stringed 
instruments  or  to  singers  concealed  behind  the  foliage  ; 
he  silent,  solitary,  dreaming,  like  the  pale  dwellers 
in  lotus-land. 

Here  Wagner  was  occasionally  permitted  to  bear 
his  Majesty  company,  a  favour  once  extended  to 
Fraulein  Schefszky,  an  opera-singer  whose  superb 
voice  had  won  his  enthusiastic  admiration.  Unwilling 
that  this  should  be  limited  to  her  voice,  the  lady,  in 
whose  portly  person  beat  a  scheming  heart,  sent  him 
verses  hinting  of  her  ardent  love,  and  made  him 
presents  that  he  accepted  on  the  condition  that  he 
paid  for  them — an  arrangement  that  allowed  her 
to  reap  considerable  profit,  as  she  charged  him  three 
times  their  cost,  until  an  exorbitant  demand  for  some 
gift  awoke  his  secretary's  suspicion,  and  led  to  the 
discovery  and  the  dismissal  of  the  Fraulein  from 
Royal  favour.  Before  this  happened  she  had  often 
sung  to  Ludwig  hidden  behind  the  shrubs  in  the 
winter  garden.  On  the  evening  when  she  was  in- 
vited to  sit  with  him  and  Wagner  in  the  boat,  it 
seemed  to  her  she  had  reached  the  highest  place 
in  his  favour.  Therefore  in  a  moment  of  silence 
succeeding  her  song,  while  the  swan  noiselessly  drew 
them  through  the  blue-tinted  perfumed  water,  and 
his  Majesty,  lost  in  reverie,  stared  into  space,  the  lady 
lent   forward    and  gently   passed  her    fingers    through 


Ube  IRomance  ot  a  /II^a^  /iDoiiaixb         75 

his  hair,  when,  shocked  and  disgusted  by  such 
familiarity,  he  pushed  her  away  so  roughly  that  the 
boat  upset  and  flung  all  three  into  the  lake.  The 
King  clambered  up  the  bank  and  strode  away  without 
turning  to  see  what  became  of  his  companions,  and  the 
prima  donna,  drenched  and  disillusioned,  was  rescued 
by  the  composer  with  the  assistance  of  a  boat-hook. 

In  1869  Bulow,  who  had  been  the  subject  of  severe 
comments  in  the  press,  had  his  marriage  dissolved. 
Resigning  his  post  as  director  of  the  opera,  he  went 
to  live  in  Florence ;  while  his  wife  found  a  home 
under  Wagner's  roof.  Before  they  could  marry 
certain  difficulties  had  to  be  overcome.  Though 
Wagner  had  been  brought  up  as  a  follower  of  Luther, 
Frau  Bulow  belonged  to  a  Church  which  does  not 
sanction  divorce.  She  was  therefore  obliged  to  embrace 
a  faith  which  showed  more  consideration  to  ill-assorted 
couples,  before  she  could  become  Wagner's  wife. 
Meantime  she  gave  birth  to  a  child,  who  being 
Wagner's,  was  according  to  that  supreme  egotist  "  a 
marvellously  beautiful  and  sturdy  son,  whom  I  could 
proudly  christen  Siegfried."  Eventually,  on  August 
25th,  1870,  when  in  his  fifty-eighth  year,  Wagner 
and  Cosima  were  married  in  the  Protestant  Church 
of  Lucerne. 

This  step  was  strongly  opposed  to  the  wishes  of 
the  bride's  father.  In  1859  Franz  Liszt  had  resigned 
his   post   as    director  of  the   opera  at  Weimar,  owing 


76  Zl)c  IRotnance  of  IRo^alt^ 

to  the  opposition  raised  against  his  management.  He 
thenceforth  spent  a  great  part  of  his  life  at  Pesth  and 
at  Rome.  In  the  intervals  of  his  various  intrigues 
with  high-born  women,  reaction  had  set  in,  when 
he  became  absorbed  in  religious  mysticism.  With  the 
coldness  of  increasing  years  his  morals  strengthened, 
until  in  the  autumn  of  1864,  in  order  to  review  his 
past  and  face  his  future,  he  retired  to  a  Dominican 
monastery  standing  half-ruined  and  solitary  in  the 
yellow  plains  of  the  Campagna,  but  having  glorious 
views  of  the  blue  heights  of  the  Alban  hills,  and  of 
the  distant  city  whose  crowded  roofs  is  dominated 
by  the  superb  dome  of  St.  Peter's.  As  a  result  of 
his  meditations  he  became  a  sub-deacon  and  received 
the  tonsure  in  the  spring  of  the  following  year  from 
the  hands  of  Cardinal  Hohenlohe,  in  the  private 
chapel  of  the  Vatican.  Having  taken  the  minor  vows, 
he  was  given  the  honorary  title  of  abbe,  but  not 
a  cure  of  souls,  so  that  he  was  free  to  follow  his 
art  uninterruptedly.  The  cynical  heard  of  his  decision 
with  a  smile,  and  declared  he  had  entered  the  Church 
to  secure  himself  against  a  marriage  with  a  noble 
and  mature  dame,  whom  long-desired  widowhood 
had  just  left  free  to  renew  her  affection  for  him 
under  more  hallowed  circumstances.  His  displeasure 
with  Wagner  did  not  last  long,  and  this  amiable 
man  afterwards  lived  on  friendly  terms  with  both  the 
husbands  of  his  daughter. 


CHAPTER    III 

The  King's  Increasing  Eccentricities — A  Crown  of  Scorpions — Terrible 
Dreams — Seeking  Escape — The  Crown  Prince  of  Prussia — The 
Kaiser  March — The  Bayreuth  Opera-House — Wagner's  Interpreta- 
tion of  a  Storm— Laying  the  Foundation  Stone  of  the  Opera- 
House — Disappointments  and  Vexations  Regarding  his  New 
Undertaking — His  House  at  Bayreuth — Preparations  for  the 
Performances  of  the  Nibehmg  Ring  Operas — Wagner's  Speech  at 
their  Close — He  Awaits  a  Crowning  Abomination — His  London 
Concerts— The  Painting  of  his  Portrait — Crushed  by  Debt — 
Helped  by  his  Royal  Patron — The  King's  Mania  for  Building— 
A  Castle  in  the  Air — The  Splendours  of  Linderhof — An  Island 
Palace — Prince  Otto  becomes  Insane — The  King  Shrinks  from 
Humanity — Fears  a  Madman — Private  Performances  in  the  Court 
Theatre — Ludwig's  Extravagant  Generosity— A  Royal  Pair — 
Flying  Through  the  Night — His  Reverence  for  Marie  Antoinette. 

BY  this  time  the  personal  attendants  of  the  King 
had  become  gravely  concerned  at  his  growing 
eccentricities,  his  increasing  love  of  solitude,  and  the 
condition  of  his  health.  At  times  they  were  startled 
by  the  appearance  of  his  pale,  haggard  face,  whose  eyes 
blazed  with  feverish  unrest — the  result  of  headaches, 
caused,  as  he  explained,  by  an  ever-tightening  crown 
of  scorpions  binding  his  forehead.  By  day  he  was 
haunted  by  nameless  intangible  fears  clamouring  for 
possession  of  his  mind  ;    by   night   he    was   beset   by 

n 


78  Ube  iRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

terrible  dreams,  in  which  bloodstained  faces,  crowned 
with  flaming  hair,  bent  in  circles  above  him,  their 
soulless  eyes  fixed  on  him  watchfully,  their  cruel  lips 
mocking  him,  their  serpent  tongues  hissing.  From 
these  he  would  wake  screaming,  and  fleeing  from 
the  scene  of  his  agony,  would  mount  his  horse  in 
haste,  and  ride  through  the  night,  along  mountain 
passes,  down  precipitous  slopes,  by  tangled  forests, 
indifl^erent  to  danger  and  seeking  escape. 

To  indulge  his  love  of  solitude,  he  frequently  left 
the  capital  suddenly  and  without  acquainting  his 
Ministers  of  his  intention.  In  answer  to  their  mild 
remonstrances,  he  assured  them,  "  It  was  incumbent 
upon  a  Prince  to  meditate  on  the  duties  of  his  calhng, 
which  he  could  surely  do  better  when  alone  with  God 
and  Nature  than  in  the  confusion  of  a  Court."  His 
Government  was  therefore  often  sorely  perplexed  by 
his  absence,  but  never  more  so  than  when  in  July, 
1870,  France  declared  war  against  Prussia.  Whether 
Bavaria  would  remain  neutral  or  join  forces  with 
the  Emperor  or  the  King  was  a  question  that  excited 
the  whole  nation,  and  that  could  not  be  decided 
without  consulting  its  monarch.  At  this  important 
moment  Ludwig  was  absent,  having  first  gone  to  the 
castle  of  Berg,  and  from  there  to  the  mountains, 
leaving  word  that  no  papers  or  despatches  were  to  be 
sent  after  him  unless  in  a  case  of  urgent  necessity. 

When  found,  the  King  returned  to  the  capital,  and 


XTbe  IRoinance  of  a  /iDa^  /IDouarcb         79 

to  the  delight  of  his  subjects  decided  to  place  his 
troops  at  the  disposal  of  Prussia.  As  his  hatred  of 
warfare,  with  its  sickening  scenes  of  bloodshed  and 
devastation,  prevented  him  from  heading  his  army, 
that  position  was  taken  by  the  Crown  Prince,  after- 
wards the  Emperor  Frederick.  On  July  27th  the 
latter  came  to  Munich  to  take  command  of  the 
Bavarian  soldiers,  and  was  received  by  the  people  with 
enthusiasm,  and  by  the  King  with  apparent  friendliness. 
The  Crown  Prince,  who  had  not  seen  Ludwig  for 
two  years,  was  struck  by  his  "  strangely  altered  " 
appearance,  and  in  the  diary  suppressed  by  Bismarck, 
wrote  of  him  as  being  "  much  less  handsome,  nervous 
in  his  speech,  does  not  wait  for  an  answer  after 
putting  questions,  but  while  the  answer  is  being  given 
puts  other  questions  referring  to  widely  different 
subjects."  On  leaving,  he  took  with  him  Prince  Otto, 
the  King's  brother,  and  Prince  Luitpold,  his  uncle, 
who  were  to  fight  under  the  banner  of  Prussia.  It 
may  be  mentioned  here  that  Otto,  who  like  his 
brother  had  shown  many  signs  of  eccentricity,  was 
soon  sent  back,  or,  as  it  was  politely  termed,  "  recalled 
on  important  business."  On  the  day  when  he  took 
his  leave  of  the  Crown  Prince  the  latter  described 
him  as  being  '*  as  wretched  looking  as  if  he  were  in 
a  fit  of  the  shivers,"  adding  that  when  he  spoke  to 
him  of  certain  diplomatic  matters,  "  1  could  not  make 
out  whether  he  understood  or  even  heard  me." 


So  Ube  If^oinance  of  IRo^alt^ 

During  the  Franco-Prussian  war,  the  King  suffered 
from  profound  melancholy,  mixed  with  a  bitter 
jealousy  of  the  Crown  Prince,  who  was  filling  the 
place  at  the  head  of  the  Bavarian  army  that  Ludwig 
knew  belonged  to  himself,  but  which  his  temperament 
prevented  him  from  taking.  At  the  close  of  that 
brief  war,  Bismarck,  by  the  use  of  considerable 
diplomacy,  induced  him,  as  head  of  the  South  German 
States,  to  copy  and  sign  a  letter  written  by  that 
Minister  in  which  the  King  of  Prussia  was  urged  to 
assume  the  title  of  Emperor.  A  letter  addressed 
to  the  other  rulers  of  South  Germany,  and  bearing 
Ludwig's  signature,  asked  them  to  second  his  request. 
It  was  a  stirring  time  for  the  little  Bavarian  capital 
when,  in  July,  1871,  the  Crown  Prince  entered  its 
gates  bringing  with  him  all  that  was  left  of  its 
army.  Crowned  with  a  laurel  wreath,  presented  with 
addresses,  and  hailed  as  a  conqueror,  he  was  regarded 
by  Ludwig  with  gnawing  envy,  which  expressed  itself 
by  a  positive  refusal  to  be  present  at  the  great 
banquet  given  to  Frederick.  Saying  he  needed  rest, 
he  drove  from  the  Royal  palace  soon  after  dawn  on 
the  date  on  which  it  was  to  take  place,  and  without 
saying  fyewell  to  his  guest. 

To  celebrate  the  great  political  event  of  the  day, 
Wagner  composed  a  Kaiser  March,  which,  when 
performed  in  Munich,  was  described  by  a  musical 
critic   as    "a   piece   of   such    barbaric   rudeness,    such 


Ube  IRomance  of  a  /IDa&  /Il>onarcb         si 

impotence  in  invention,  such  shameless  impudence  in 
the  use  of  all  conceivable  noises,  that  its  name  appears 
a  blasphemy,  its  performance  before  a  civilised  public 
a  coarse  insult."  Full  of  restless  energy,  burning  with 
ambition  for  his  art,  Wagner  had  by  this  time  conceived 
the  idea  of  building  a  theatre  after  his  own  designs 
for  the  performance  of  his  own  operas.  Communi- 
cating this  to  Ludwig,  he  received  the  appreciative 
sympathy  of  his  patron,  and  what  was  more  important, 
the  promise  of  help  in  this  elaborate  and  expensive 
undertaking.  The  place  selected  for  the  building  was 
the  slumberous  old  Bavarian  town  of  Bayreuth,  almost 
in  the  middle  of  Germany.  A  site  for  it,  situated  on 
an  eminence,  surrounded  by  park-like  grounds  and 
backed  by  a  wooded  hill,  was  presented  to  him  by 
the  inhabitants,  who  were  mindful  of  the  profit  which 
they  must  reap  from  the  crowds  which  would  flock 
to  the  performances  of  his  operas.  Architects  and 
engineers  were  consulted,  plans  were  drawn  and 
discussed,  and  concerts  were  performed  to  gain  funds. 
One  of  these  was  given  in  Vienna  at  a  moment  when 
a  storm  raged,  and  it  so  happened  that  thunder  and 
lightning  were  seen  and  heard  just  as  the  Magic  Fire 
Music  was  being  played,  and  at  the  precise  phrase 
where  Wotan  invokes  Loge  the  fire-god  to  protect 
the  sleeping  Valkyrie.  To  Wagner  this  coincidence 
was  an  indication  of  the  direct  interest  shown  in 
his  work  by   august    powers  ;  and  with   the  dramatic 

VOL.    I.  6 


82  Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

instincts  of  his  character  he  came  before  his  audience 
and  told  them  :  "  When  the  Greeks  undertook  a  great 
work,  they  invoked  Zeus  to  send  them  his  lightning 
in  token  of  his  favour.  Let  us  too,"  he  added, 
"who  are  united  here  in  the  desire  to  found  a  hearth 
for  German  art,  interpret  to-day's  lightning  in  favour 
of  our  national  undertaking,  as  a  sign  of  blessing  from 
above." 

The  foundation  stone  of  the  Nibelung  Theatre  at 
Bayreuth  was  laid  with  much  ceremony  on  May 
22nd,  1872,  Wagner's  fifty-ninth  birthday.  Invita- 
tions sent  throughout  Germany  to  musicians  wiUing 
to  take  part  in  the  Beethoven  Festival,  which  was  to 
form  part  of  the  proceedings,  had  been  widely  accepted, 
and  the  number  of  those  present  was  increased  by  the 
representatives  of  various  Wagner  Societies  that  had 
been  founded  by  Emil  Heckel,  of  Mannheim,  to  raise 
funds  for  the  building.  The  King  was  not  present, 
but  a  telegram  was  received  from  him  that  morning 
addressed  "  To  the  German  poet-composer,  Herr 
Richard  Wagner,"  which  said  :  "From  the  profoundest 
depths  of  my  soul  I  express  to  you,  dearest  friend, 
my  warmest  and  most  sincere  congratulations  on  this 
day  of  such  great  significance  to  all  Germany.  Bless- 
ing and  prosperity  to  the  great  undertaking  next 
year.  To-day  more  than  ever  I  am  united  with  you 
in  spirit. — Ludwig."  This  message,  several  coins,  the 
statutes  of  the  first  Wagner  Society,  and  some  lines 


Ube  IRomance  of  a  fJX^a^  /IDonatcb         83 

of  Wagner's  that  said  :  "  Here  I  enclose  a  secret  ; 
here  let  it  rest  hundreds  of  years,  as  long  as  the 
stone  preserves  it  ;  it  will  reveal  itself  to  the  world," 
were  all  placed  in  an  iron  box  that  was  sunk  under 
the  foundation  stone.  This  was  laid  by  Wagner 
himself,  who  heading  a  procession  from  the  old 
theatre,  where  the  Beethoven  Festival  had  been  held, 
walked  to  the  strains  of  the  March  of  Homage  he 
had  composed  in  honour  of  the  King,  to  the  site  of 
the  new  building.  Then,  his  eyes  sparkling  with 
triumph,  his  fine  head  flung  back  with  its  customary 
air  of  defiance,  his  voice  vibrating  with  emotion,  he 
cried  out  :  '*  Blessings  on  this  stone  ;  may  it  stand 
long  and  hold  firmly."  The  stroke  of  his  hammer 
was  lost  in  the  ringing  cheers  of  those  surging  round 
him. 

Sanguine  of  success,  he  believed  the  theatre  would 
be  completed  the  following  year.  But  in  this,  as  in 
most  of  his  projects  throughout  his  life,  he  was 
destined  to  disappointment.  The  money  necessary  for 
the  building,  which  he  believed  would  pour  in  on  him, 
was  not  forthcoming.  This  was  due,  not  only  to  the 
strange  indifference  to  his  art  shown  by  the  German 
people,  but  to  the  disparagement  expressed  by  the 
press  toward  himself  and  his  music.  One  journal  the 
Grazer  JVochenblatt  fur  Literature^  delicately  referred 
to  his  "  coarse  bigmouthedness,"  and  dilated  on  "  the 
colossal    impudence    of    the    Bayreuth    undertaking." 


84  TTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

Another  paper  described  the  ceremony  of  laying  the 
foundation  stone  as  "  a  farce,  staged  with  genuine 
Wagnerian  raffinement^  and  calculated  solely  for  his 
personal  glorification";  while  the  Vossische  Zeitung 
ridiculed  the  claim  of  national  importance  made  for 
his  music-dramas  by  one  whom  the  German  nation 
refused  to  recognise  as  a  great  composer. 

Whatever  the  cause,  the  result  was  disheartening. 
Four  thousand  circulars  issued  by  the  Wagner 
Society  brought  it  a  few  dollars  that  did  not  pay 
the  expense  of  printing.  An  appeal  addressed  to  the 
managers  of  the  opera-houses  through  Germany,  for 
a  benefit  performance  in  aid  of  the  Bayreuth  theatre, 
was  ignored  by  most  of  them,  three  only  responding, 
to  refuse  the  request.  No  notice  was  taken  of  a 
letter  sent  by  Wagner  to  Bismarck  asking  help.  A 
similar  petition  to  the  Imperial  Government  also  com- 
pletely failed  ;  but  the  German  Emperor  sent  a  small 
subscription  from  his  private  purse.  Above  all,  in 
this  hour  of  need  the  King  seemed  indifferent  to  the 
straits  of  the  man  who  had  declared  that  his  Majesty 
adored  him  ;  for  on  Wagner  asking  him  to  become 
a  guarantee  for  the  sum  necessary  to  continue  the 
theatre,  Ludwig  refused. 

It  was  then  that  Wagner,  deeply  dejected,  sent  a 
telegram  to  his  energetic  and  helpful  friend,  Herr 
Heckel,  asking  him  to  visit  him.  On  his  arrival  he 
was   told    by  Wagner  that  he  intended  to  address  an 


Hbe  IRomance  of  a  /lDa&  /iDonarcb         85 

open  letter  to  him,  declaring  that  the  building  of  the 
theatre  must  be  discontinued  until  better  times.  "  I'll 
have  the  still  open  walls  of  the  Festival  House  boarded 
in,  that  at  least  the  owls  mayn't  build  their  nests  there 
until  we  can  go  on  building  again,"  he  said.  Heckel, 
a  forcible,  determined  man,  at  once  replied  :  "  That 
shall  never  be."  Various  projects  to  secure  funds  were 
then  entered  into,  but  before  any  result  from  these 
could  be  obtained,  Wagner  discovered  the  cause  of 
the  King's  disinclination  to  help  him.  A  man 
less  blinded  by  self-importance  might  readily  have 
suspected  it.  An  admirer  of  Ludwig  had  written 
some  verses  in  his  praise,  which  he  called  Made 
Imperator.  These  he  had  sent  to  Wagner  asking  him 
to  set  them  to  music,  a  request  the  composer  had 
"  emphatically  declined  "  to  grant,  when  the  King  was 
naturally  hurt  that  one  who  was  so  much  indebted  to 
his  bounty  should  refuse  to  please  him  in  so  small 
a  matter.  This  feeling  was  soon  removed  by  Wagner, 
who  says  he  was  "  able  to  explain  the  very  mischievous 
occasion  to  the  King  in  a  way  that  turned  him  to  my 
side  at  once."  An  arrangement  was  then  made  in 
February,  1874,  by  which  his  Majesty  advanced  a 
sufficient  sum  out  of  his  privy  purse  to  continue  the 
building,  in  return  for  which  all  moneys  received  for 
■patronat  vouchers  were  assigned  to  the  Royal  ex- 
chequer until  payment  was  completed.  The  Sultan 
of  Turkey    and    the    Khedive    of    Egypt    helped    a 


S5  tbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

the  same  time  by  taking  a  number  of  Patron's 
Certificates. 

While  the  theatre  was  in  course  of  erection,  Wagner 
built  himself  a  residence  in  Bayreuth,  on  a  site  also 
presented  to  him  by  the  townspeople,  and  situated 
close  to  the  public  park.  Exteriorly  the  villa  is  plain, 
its  sole  attempt  at  ornamentation  being  a  fresco  above 
the  entrance  representing  Wotan  as  the  symbol  of 
German  mythology,  two  female  figures  typifying  Music 
and  Tragedy — one  of  them  a  likeness  of  his  second  wife, 
the  other  of  the  prima  donna  Wilhelmine  Schroder- 
Devrient.  A  fourth  figure  was  that  of  his  son 
Siegfried.  Underneath  are  three  tablets,  on  which  runs 
the  inscription  :  *'  Here,  where  my  illusions  came  to 
rest,  Wannfried  be  this  house  named." 

After  extraordinary  efforts  on  Wagner's  part, 
ardently  seconded  by  those  who  helped  him, 
the  theatre,  with  its  many  improvements  on  any 
building  of  the  kind,  was  completed  ;  the  operas  that 
finished  the  Nibelung  Ring  were  written,  singers 
sought  and  engaged,  an  orchestra  under  Herr  Richter 
numbering  one  hundred  and  thirteen  performers,  and 
including  musicians  from  Vienna,  Munich,  Weimar, 
Hanover,  Breslau,  and  other  German  towns,  was 
formed,  when  rehearsals  were  continued  for  about 
three  months,  which  were  marked  by  that  display  of 
vanity,  jealousy,  and  bickering  that  seems  inseparable 
from    members    of  the    musical    profession.      August 


tTbe  iRomance  of  a  /iDab  /iDoitarcb         ^1 

13th,  1867,  was  fixed  as  the  day  for  the  opening 
performance,  which  not  only  the  King  of  Bavaria,  but 
at  his  invitation  the  German  Emperor,  as  well  as  the 
Emperor  of  Brazil,  and  the  Grand  Dukes  of  Weimar, 
of  Baden,  and  of  Mecklenburg,  promised  to  attend. 
Early  in  that  glorious  month  the  little  town  of 
Bayreuth,  which  for  years  had  lain  undisturbed  and 
almost  forgotten,  now  roused  itself  to  celebrate  the 
great  festival.  Banners  and  flags  hung  from  windows 
and  jDOSts,  the  houses  were  garnished  and  painted, 
immense  quantities  of  provisions  laid  in,  and  a  new 
restaurant  built. 

As  early  as  the  6th  of  the  month  Ludwig  arrived, 
though  without  the  knowledge  of  the  inhabitants  ; 
for  shrinking  more  and  more  from  his  kind,  he  had 
the  train  stopped  some  miles  outside  the  town,  where 
he  was  met  by  a  closed  carriage  and  driven  to  the 
Eremitage,  an  old  palace  sleeping  in  a  sunny  park, 
which  had  been  prepared  for  him.  It  being  his  wish 
to  attend  the  last  of  the  series  of  rehearsals,  none 
were  allowed  into  the  theatre  on  these  occasions  save 
a  few  persons  who  were  hidden  from  his  sight  in  the 
gallery.  When  the  rehearsals  came  to  an  end,  he 
suddenly  left  Bayreuth  without  waiting  to  receive 
his  Imperial  guest.  The  latter  arrived  the  day 
previous  to  the  first  public  performance,  and  was 
greeted  by  the  thousands  from  every  country  in 
Europe    who    had    flocked    to    the    festival.      These 


§8  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

included  men  distinguished  in  every  branch  of  art, 
amateur  musicians  by  the  score,  sightseers,  travellers, 
the  idle  and  the  curious.  Not  only  every  hotel  in 
the  place,  but  every  house  capable  of  accommodating 
lodgers,  was  crowded,  so  that  many  sane  and  innocent 
people  were  glad  to  sleep  in  the  lunatic  asylum  and  the 
prison,  those  less  fortunate  passing  the  nights  in  the  open 
air.  By  day  a  wild  scramble  for  food  was  made  at  the 
restaurants,  where  hungry  people,  despairing  of  being 
served  by  bewildered  waiters,  snatched  at  German 
sausages  and  drew  themselves  tankards  of  beer,  in  the 
midst  of  general  excitement  and  hilarious  confusion 
that  impressed  the  imagination  and  injured  digestion. 

The  first  opera  of  the  series,  Rheingold,  interpreted 
by  famous  artists,  presented  with  splendid  scenic 
effects,  and  without  a  visible  orchestra,  in  a  theatre 
whose  auditorium  allowed  all  present  to  see  the 
immense  stage,  was  received  with  delight.  Applause 
greeted  it  throughout,  and  broke  into  wild  enthusiasm 
as  the  heavy  curtains  noiselessly  closed  upon  the 
last  scene.  Then  came  hearty  and  persistent  cries 
for  the  composer  and  the  singers,  but  none  appeared, 
though  Emperors  and  Grand  Dukes  waited  to  applaud. 
A  notice  written  by  Wagner  on  the  following  day 
explained  the  cause.  In  this  he  requested  that  the 
audience  would  not  take  it  ill  of  either  the  author  or 
the  performers  if  they  did  not  acknowledge  the  marks 
of   approbation    most    kindly   bestowed    on    them    by 


the  IRomance  of  a  /in»a&  /Iftonarcb         89 

appearing  before  the  curtain,  **  as  they  have  agreed 
to  carry  out  this  abnegation  in  order  to  present 
themselves  before  the  public  exclusively  within  the 
frame  of  the  art-work  represented  by  them."  The 
same  enthusiasm  greeted  each  of  the  series  ;  only  the 
first  and  second  of  which  were  heard  by  the  German 
Emperor,  who  then  left  Bayreuth.  The  last  of  the 
series,  Gotterdammerung,  was  marked  by  an  incident 
that  was  widely  commented  on.  As  it  ended,  Wagner 
came  before  the  curtain  and  made  a  brief,  characteristic 
speech,  in  which  he  said  :  "  To  your  favour  and  to 
the  infinite  exertions  of  my  co-operating  artists,  you 
owe  this  deed.  What  I  have  to  say  to  you  besides 
this  might  be  summed  up  in  a  few  words,  in  an  axiom. 
You  have  seen  what  we  can  do  ;  it  is  now  for  you 
to  will.     And  if  you  will,  we  shall  have  an  art." 

The  Nibelung  Ring  series  was  repeated  three  times, 
for  the  last  of  which  Ludwig  returned  to  Bayreuth, 
and  heard  it  from  one  of  the  Royal  boxes  over- 
looking the  auditorium.  No  one  but  Wagner  was 
allowed  to  speak  to  him  during  the  performances  ; 
him  he  had  greeted  with  the  words  *'  So  the  sun  is 
really  shining  on  your  work,"  At  the  finish  of  the 
last  of  the  operas,  he  rose  from  his  seat  and  loudly 
applauded,  his  example  being  followed  by  all  present. 
Wagner's  appearance  was  greeted  by  rapturous  cheers 
and  showers  of  wreaths  and  bouquets.  In  a  few  words 
he   expressed  his    indebtedness    to  the  King,   without 


9c  tlbe  IRoiitance  of  IRo^alt^ 

whose  assistance  the  theatre  never  could  have  been 
built,  and  to  the  artists  who  had  interpreted  him. 
The  Nibelung  Ring  series  was  ended,  he  said,  but  he 
did  not  know  if  it  would  be  repeated.  For  as  he 
stood  before  that  enthusiastic  audience,  Wagner  knew 
that  the  festival  had  been  a  financial  failure.  In  order 
to  cover  the  enormous  expenses  of  the  performances 
alone,  which  amounted  to  about  twenty  thousand 
pounds,  it  would  have  been  necessary  that  thirteen 
hundred  subscription  tickets  should  have  been  taken 
up,  whereas  scarce  half  that  number  had  been  sub- 
scribed for.  A  deficit  of  eight  thousand  pounds  there- 
fore remained  to  weigh  like  a  millstone  round  his 
neck.  His  followers  urged  Wagner  to  appeal  once 
more  to  his  Royal  friend,  but  this  he  was  most 
unwilling  to  do.  Instead  he  addressed  a  circular  to 
his  patrons  asking  them  to  defray  the  debt,  but  only 
a  few  of  them  took  any  notice  of  it.  The  Bayreuth 
theatre  was  next  offered  to  the  managers  of  the 
Munich  theatre,  but  the  offer  was  declined.  He  then 
wrote  to  the  Imperial  Government  praying  for  help, 
but  no  assistance  was  given  him,  and  to  pay  pressing 
debts,  money  had  to  be  borrowed  on  interest. 

In  November  his  spirits  were  so  depressed  that  he 
wrote  to  Herr  Heckel :  "I  really  am  only  waiting  for 
a  crowning  abomination  to  decide  me  to  break  up 
everything,  and  that  in  the  most  literal  sense.  I  shall 
then  turn  absolutely  silent,  and  hand  everything  there 


tTbe  IRomance  of  a  /IDat)  /IDonarcb         9t 

to  the  creditors  of  my  undertaking  without  a  word, 
exactly  as  with  a  legal  bankruptcy."  Herr  Heckel 
had  recently  presented  a  set  of  Alpine  flora  to  the 
King,  and  on  the  strength  of  that  gift,  desired  to 
obtain  an  audience  of  his  Majesty  that  he  might  tell 
him  of  Wagner's  troubles.  In  answer  to  this  sug- 
gestion, the  composer  wrote  :  "  Oh  yes,  the  King  of 
Bavaria.  As  if  there  were  any  omission  of  mine 
to  be  repaired  there.  Don't  you  think  that  if  any- 
body could  do  something  in  that  quarter  it  would  be 
myself ;  and  do  you  fancy  I've  not  done  my  utter- 
most ?  .  .  .  What  we  brought  about  last  year  was 
a  miracle,  and  will  remain  so  as  long  as  any  one 
remembers  it.  But  beyond  that  we  can  go  no  longer  ; 
that  we  must  recognise." 

Before  the  result  of  his  "  uttermost "  could  take 
practical  shape,  Wagner,  in  the  hope  of  clearing  his 
debt,  agreed  to  conduct  six  concerts  in  London.  Herr 
Heckel  thought  this  act  "  to  us  Germans  an  eternal 
disgrace,  that  Wagner  should  have  been  forced  to 
this  step  to  cover  the  deficit  on  a  national  under- 
taking." These  concerts  of  his  own  music,  for  which 
several  of  the  Bayreuth  singers  were  engaged,  were 
held  in  the  Albert  Hall.  Its  size  was  more  than 
sufficient  to  accommodate  the  audiences.  The  expenses 
of  engaging  performers  and  of  having  one  hundred 
and  seventy  rehearsals,  insisted  on  by  Wagner,  almost 
equalled    the    receipts.     Under    the    circumstances   he 


92  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^aitg 

refused  to  accept  the  considerable  sum  that  had  been 
guaranteed  to  him  ;  but  those  who  engaged  him, 
Messrs.  Hodge  &  Essex,  were  equally  generous,  and 
after  his  departure  sent  him  seven  hundred  pounds, 
which  paid  part  of  the  debt  on  his  theatre. 

Misfortunes   are    often  followed    by  compensations. 
Though  Wagner  was  bitterly  mortified  by  the  indiffer- 
ence shown  to  the  music  of  the  future  by  Londoners, 
yet  his   visit   to  the  capital  was  made  pleasant  to  him 
in  various  ways.     Queen  Victoria  honoured  him  with 
an    audience  ;    their    present     Majesties    attended    his 
concerts  ;    his    countrymen    feted    him  ;    and    one    of 
them,  Mr.  Hubert  Herkomer,  painted  his  portrait  for 
the  German  Athenaeum  Club.     Difficulties  waylaid  the 
artist,  who,   as   Wagner  was   not   willing  to  give  him 
sittings,  was  obliged  to  study  him  where  and  when  he 
could,   permission  being    given   him   for  this    purpose 
to    enter    whenever    he    pleased  the  house    where  the 
composer    stayed.     At    the    end    of    a    month,     Mr. 
Herkomer's  patience  began  to  give  way.     "  But  I  was 
wrought  up  to  a   curious  pitch   of  excitement  during 
this    training,"   says    he,   "  for    I   was    affected  by  the 
personal  power  of  the  man  over  those  around  him,  by 
the  magic  of  his  music,  and  by  the  face  of  this  poet- 
musician,  which  when  stirred  by  emotion  was  a  grand 
reflection  of   his  work.     Now    I   doubt   whether  any 
man    since   Napoleon    I.    has  been   known  to  exercise 
such  powers  of  fascination  over  his  admirers  as  Richard 


RICHARD    WAGNER,    I882. 


[Facing  page  92. 


Zbc  IRomance  of  a  /IDaO  /iDonarcb         93 

Wagner  does  daily,  and  will  do  to  the  termination  of 
his  physical  life.  You  lose  your  identity  when  in  his 
presence  ;  you  are  sadly  inclined  to  forget  that  there 
is  something  else  in  the  world  besides  Wagner  and  his 
music.  You  are  under  an  influence  that  sets  every 
nerve  at  its  highest  key." 

The  artist  could  think  of  nothing  but  his  subject, 
whose  influence  dominated  him,  until  at  last,  weary  of 
having  the  sittings  postponed,  he  determined  to  paint 
him  from  memory.  For  two  days  he  worked  at  the 
portrait,  his  imagination  excited,  his  energy  strung, 
and  on  the  third  showed  it  to  Wagner.  "  Up  to  that 
time,"  says  Mr.  Herkomer,  "  he  had  but  suffered  me 
to  be  near  him,  paying  little  more  attention  to  me 
than  to  an  animal,  but  from  the  moment  that  he  saw 
his  portrait  his  demeanour  changed,  and  never  did  a 
man  show  admiration  more  truly  and  heartily  than  did 
Richard  Wagner  on  this  occasion.  How  I  had  done 
it  puzzled  him.  *  You  use  witchcraft,'  he  said  to  me. 
So  then  he  was  ready  to  sit  to  me,  and  I  was  intensely 
eager,  not  to  say  nervous,  to  compare  my  impressional 
portrait  with  the  original  subject." 

Depressed  from  failure  and  greatly  fatigued, 
Wagner  returned  to  Bayreuth.  The  debt  which  his 
exertions  had  done  so  little  Uo  relieve  crushed  him. 
But  soon  after,  the  King  once  more  came  to  his  aid, 
when  the  Intendant  or  Secretary  of  the  Royal  Treasury, 
on  behalf  of  his  Majesty,  undertook  to  pay  the  debt 


94  XTbe  IRoinance  of  IRo^alt^ 

in  return  for  the  sums  realised  by  the  production  of 
the  Nibelung  Ring  operas  at  other  theatres  than  at 
Bayreuth,  where,  according  to  Wagner's  original  inten- 
tion, they  were  only  to  be  played  during  his  lifetime. 

The  payment  of  this  money  was  a  special  favour, 
for  at  this  time  Ludwig's  mania  for  building  had 
begun  to  drain  his  resources.  Not  satisfied  with  the 
castles  erected  by  his  father  and  his  grandfather,  he 
determined  to  eclipse  them,  and  to  raise  himself 
palaces  whose  magnificence  would  realise  the  splendours 
of  'The  Arabian  Nights.  One  of  these  residences, 
Neuschwanstein,  which  was  begun  in  1869,  is 
perched  on  the  spur  of  a  mountain,  and  stands  some 
three  thousand  three  hundred  feet  above  the  desolate 
ravine  of  the  Pollat.  Built  in  the  Romanesque  style 
with  towers,  minarets,  spires,  pitched  roofs  and  pro- 
jecting balconies  rising  sharply  against  the  sky,  it 
commands  superb  views  of  the  dark,  mysterious  gorge 
below,  whose  waterfall  springs  with  a  roar  into  unseen 
depths  ;  of  the  stately  castle  of  Hohenschwangau 
rising  from  the  woods  beneath  ;  of  the  spreading 
valley  lower  still,  verdant  and  watered  by  a  curving 
river ;  and  of  an  ancient  yellow-walled  red-roofed 
town,  the  whole  framed  by  the  Bavarian  Alps,  whose 
sides  are  for  ever  coloured  by  sunlight,  cloud,  or 
starlight,  and  whose  summits  are  crowned  with  snow. 

Twelve  months  after  he  had  begun  this  castle  in 
the   air  his   Majesty  desired   to   erect  another  not  far 


Zbc  IRomancc  of  a  /IDa5  /IDonarcb         95 

removed  from  Neuschwanstein,  and  called  Linderhof. 
This  was  modelled  on  the  style  of  the  famous  Trianon, 
for  ever  associated  with  the  memory  of  Marie 
Antoinette,  for  whom,  as  well  as  for  Louis  XIV.  and 
Louis  XV.,  Ludwig  felt  a  profound  reverence  such  as 
it  is  safe  to  say  no  mortal  ever  felt  before.  Furnished 
in  the  style  of  these  monarchs,  its  rooms,  with  their 
parquet  floors,  their  ceilings,  walls,  and  doors  painted 
after  the  manner  of  W^atteau,  were  crowded  with  huge 
mirrors  in  gold  frames,  busts  in  bronze  and  marble, 
candelabra,  screens,  Sevres  vases  and  figures,  gilt 
clocks,  gobelins  tapestry,  and  innumerable  bric-a-brac 
of  that  period.  This  castle  is  perhaps  the  only  one 
in  the  world  which  has  but  one  bedroom.  Built  of 
white  marble,  steps  descend  from  its  entrance  to  a 
lake  in  which  fountains  splash  ;  its  terraced  gardens 
lead  to  wooded  hills  ;  its  velvet  lawns  and  shaded 
paths  are  crowded  with  statues  of  nymphs,  gods,  and 
goddesses ;  and  here  and  there  are  bronze  pea- 
cocks whose  tails,  composed  of  hundreds  of  pieces 
of  coloured  glass,  move  mechanically,  and  dazzle  the 
sight  by  their  iridescence. 

Attached  to  this  residence  was  a  blue  grotto  which 
the  King  had  constructed  to  imitate  that  wonderful 
product  of  nature  at  Capri,  and  in  one  way  to  surpass 
it  ;  for  by  an  electrical  contrivance  the  waters  of 
his  grotto  continually  changed  their  colour,  while  he, 
as  in  the  winter  garden  of  his  Munich  palace,  dressed 


96  Ube  IRomattce  of  IRo^alti? 

as  Lohengrin,  sat  in  a  boat  drawn  by  a  swan. 
Higher  up,  in  the  denseness  of  the  woods,  he  built 
a  hut  which  in  all  ways  resembled  that  in  one  of 
the  scenes  of  Wagner's  opera  JValkiire.  Here,  when 
weary  of  the  tawdry  glitter  of  the  Trianon  palace, 
he  would  come  for  change,  when  according  to  Carl 
Heigel,  his  poet  laureate  and  one  of  his  most 
interesting  biographers,  Ludwig  would  dress  himself 
in  skins  and  play  upon  a  reed,  a  Royal  Pan. 

Linderhof  was  not  quite  finished  when  it  occurred 
to  the  King  that  a  palace  far  more  splendid  might 
be  raised  on  the  wooded  island  of  Herrenworth. 
Situated  in  a  lonely  district,  some  two  hundred  miles 
from  the  capital,  and  surrounded  by  an  immense  lake, 
it  had  once  been  famed  for  its  Benedictine  monastery. 
From  this  its  learned  body  had  been  ousted  and  their 
home  perverted  to  the  uses  of  a  brewery.  In  course 
of  time  ill-luck  left  the  building  a  ruin.  This  was 
levelled  by  the  King,  who  regardless  of  expense,  began 
to  build  a  palace  intended  to  resemble  Versailles  and 
to  surpass  its  splendours.  Begun  in  1878,  this 
immense  and  magnificent  building  was  never  completed, 
for  reasons  which  will  presently  be  told.  As  it  stands, 
this  superb  structure  defies  description  ;  its  Hall  of 
Mirrors,  with  its  thirty-three  crystal  chandeliers,  and 
its  bronze  candelabra,  holding  two  thousand  five 
hundred  candles,  being  sufficient  to  give  it  the 
semblance  of  an  enchanted  palace. 


Ube  IRomance  of  a  ff^nb  /Hbonarcb         97 

That  its  cost  was  immense  did  not  concern  a  man 
who  had  never  been  able  to  realise  the  value  of 
money.  While  the  greater  part  of  it  remained 
unfinished,  he  decided  to  rebuild  the  ancient  castle 
of  Falkenstein,  and  make  it  the  most  wonderful 
structure  the  modern  world  has  seen.  Part  of  his 
scheme  for  its  adornment  was  that  its  walls  should 
blaze  with  precious  stones.  Though  the  old  castle 
was  pulled  down,  no  stone  of  the  intended  building 
was  ever  laid  ;  and  though  orders  for  a  limitless 
quantity  of  jewels  were  given  to  the  Munich  jewellers, 
the  gems  were  never  supplied. 

Though  it  was  plain  to  all  that  since  his  return 
from  the  Franco-Prussian  war  Prince  Otto  was 
insane,  yet  it  was  not  until  1876  that  it  was  found 
necessary  to  place  him  under  restraint.  He  was 
therefore  sent  to  the  castle  of  Nymphenbourg,  under 
the  supervision  of  a  doctor  and  attendants.  This  had 
a  serious  effect  on  Ludwig,  who  from  this  time  began 
to  fear  that  the  same  implacable,  intangible  enemy, 
impossible  to  wrestle  with  and  conquer,  was  gradually, 
stealthily,  creeping  on  him.  As  if  to  watch  for  that 
insidious  enemy,  he  stared  for  long  intervals  into  his 
looking-glass,  where  he  saw  the  reflection  of  a  pallid 
face  nervously  contracting  and  quivering,  from  the 
unfathomable  depths  of  whose  eyes  a  vengeful  demon 
glared.  "  I  could  not  swear  that  I  am  not  mad,"  he 
once  said,  as  he  stared  at  that  horrible  vision. 

VOL,  I.  7 


98  Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

Shrinking  more  and  more  from  humanity,  whose 
gaze  he  dreaded,  he  was  now  never  seen  by  his  subjects 
in  the  Royal  box  of  the  theatre.  But  as  he  was 
passionately  fond  of  all  stage  representations,  he  had 
both  operas  and  plays  performed  for  his  own  benefit, 
and  of  course  at  his  own  cost.  These  took  place  in 
the  Court  theatre  and  usually  began  at  midnight.  A 
passage  from  the  palace,  which  all  were  forbidden  to 
enter  and  which  was  guarded  by  gendarmes,  led  to 
the  Royal  box.  His  Majesty's  entrance  to  this  was 
announced  by  the  ringing  of  a  silver  bell,  when  the 
curtain  went  up  and  the  waiting  players  began  their 
parts.  Save  for  the  King,  the  theatre  was  generally 
empty.  Occasionally,  however,  his  Ministers  were 
commanded  to  attend,  and  occupied  boxes  where  they 
could  not  be  seen  by  their  Sovereign  nor  he  by  them. 
Here  they  were  obliged  to  remain  for  hours,  when  no 
doubt  they  would  have  preferred  to  lie  in  their 
comfortable  beds.  This  must  have  been  especially  the 
case  when  the  plays  performed  were  written  by  Carl 
von  Heigel,  the  poet  laureate  or  Court  dramatist,  from 
subjects  selected  by  the  King.  These  chiefly  dealt 
with  the  legends  connected  with  the  Royal  palace  of 
Hohenschwangau,  already  utilised  by  Wagner,  and 
with  events  in  the  lives  of  Louis  XIV.,  Louis  XV., 
and  Marie  Antoinette.  Next  in  his  extraordinary 
esteem  for  these  personages  came  the  Pompadour,  who 
was  frequently  a  prominent  figure  in  these  dramas  ; 


Zbc  IRomancc  of  a  /IDa&  /IDonaixb         99 

though,  says  Heigel,  who  mentions  the  fact,  the  King 
blushed  if  the  name  of  a  member  of  the  demi-monde 
were  mentioned  in  his  presence. 

In  the  privacy  of  his  own  apartments,  actors  recited 
the  poems  of  Schiller  and  Racine  to  him  ;  and  as 
already  mentioned,  singers  beguiled  him  as  he  sailed  in 
his  swan-drawn  boat  through  the  lotus-land  of  his 
winter  garden.  There  were  other  occasions  when  on 
moonlight  nights  he  would  sit  on  the  battlements  of 
the  castle  of  Berg,  while  the  famous  tenor,  Herr 
Nachauer,  drifting  in  a  boat  on  the  still,  shimmering 
lake  below,  sang  the  music  of  Lohengrin.  All  whom 
the  King  employed  were  richly  rewarded  for  their 
services,  extreme  cases  of  which  were  the  valuable 
diamond  ring  he  gave  to  a  shepherd  who  had  shown 
him  the  way  in  the  mountains  ;  the  wreath  of  golden 
acorns  he  sent  to  Herr  Schnorr,  the  painter  of  frescoes 
in  the  Royal  palaces  ;  and  the  gift  of  fifty  pounds  to 
a  soldier  who  won  his  admiration  by  the  way  in  which 
he  had  sounded  the  bugle  to  announce  the  different 
courses  at  his  Majesty's  dinner-table.  Besides  being 
handsomely  paid  for  his  singing,  Nachauer  was  presented 
with  the  suit  of  silver  armour  the  King  wore  when 
he  identified  himself  with   Lohengrin. 

His  Majesty's  stay  in  the  capital  became  rarer  and 
more  rare,  during  which  time  he  was  seldom  seen 
by  any  one  save  his  personal  attendants,  and  when 
necessary  by  his  Ministers.     A.nd  as  one  of  his  ever- 


loo  TLbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

increasing  dreads  was  that  he  would  be  shot  at  by  a 
madman  whom  he  imagined  he  had  seen  among 
the  crowd  that  gathered  daily  round  the  palace  gates 
to  see  him  drive  out,  he  ordered  that  such  crowds 
should  be  dispersed.  As  he  shrank  back  in  a  corner 
of  his  carriage,  the  blinds  of  which  were  drawn,  he 
could  not  have  seen  the  madman,  nor  could  any 
man  have  seen  him. 

Weary  of  the  melancholy  that  overwhelmed  him, 
impatient  of  his  surroundings,  he  longed  to  establish 
a  kingdom  in  India  or  Arabia.  As  there  seemed  no 
immediate  possibility  of  being  able  to  fulfil  this  wish, 
he  endeavoured  to  get  rid  of  his  personality  by 
dressing  as  Pan  and  living  in  a  hut,  or  by  donning 
the  garb  of  a  Turk  and  squatting  in  a  kiosk.  But 
disguise  the  outer  man  as  he  would,  the  inner  man 
was  unchangeable,  blighted  beyond  all  power  of  heal- 
ing by  some  power  and  for  some  purpose  which  seems 
pitiless  to  those  who  see  but  one  of  the  lives  of  men. 
To  drown  the  sense  of  dread  ever  rising  round  him 
like  a  tide  destined  to  overwhelm  him,  he  began  to 
smoke  opium  and  to  drink  a  mixture  of  white  Rhine 
wine  and  champagne.  This  was  presented  to  him 
in  a  bowl  of  crystal  or  jade,  the  surface  of  the  wine 
being  covered  with  red  rose-leaves  and  purple 
violets. 

He  still  continued  to  transact  the  business  of  his 
kingdom  so  far  as  to  sign  papers  brought  by   couriers 


Ubc  tdomancc  of  a  /lDa&  /iDonaixb        lot 

from  Munich  to  his  castles  in  the  mountains,  and  when 
necessary  he  returned  to  the  capital  or  to  the  neighbour- 
ing castle  of  Berg  to  give  audiences  to  his  Ministers. 
The  State  banquets,  receptions,  and  balls  which  his 
nobility  expected  him  to  give  were  presided  over  by 
his  uncle,  Prince  Luitpold,  at  his  Majesty's  desire. 
Only  on  rare  occasions  could  Ludwig  be  induced 
to  be  present  at  such  scenes.  When  he  sat  at  one 
of  these  public  dinners,  he  would,  to  protect  himself 
from  the  sight  of  a  face  whose  plainness  offended  him, 
or  from  the  presence  of  some  disagreeable  person, 
order  a  huge  bouquet  to  be  placed  between  them 
and  him  ;  while  to  avoid  conversation  that  bored 
him,  he  commanded  the  band  to  play  so  loudly  that 
all  voices  were  drowned  in  a  storm  of  sound,  usually 
a   Wagner  composition. 

In  the  winter  of  1870,  while  riding  desperately  and 
despairingly  through  the  night,  his  horse  stumbled, 
fell,  and  threw  him.  Fortunately  his  friend  and  aide- 
de-camp.  Count  Holstein,  was  with  him  at  the  time. 
The  accident,  though  not  serious,  gave  a  shock 
to  his  Majesty's  nerves  and  prevented  him  from 
ever  riding  again.  As  swift  motion  through  darkness 
excited  and  delighted  him,  he  now  drove  in  a  carriage 
and  four  white  horses  in  summer.  As  in  winter 
carriage  driving  through  the  mountain  districts  was 
impossible,  though  hundreds  of  men  were  daily  em- 
ployed   to    keep   the  roads  in  repair,  he  had  a  sleigh 


162  tTbe  IRomance  of  H^o^alt^ 

made,  shaped  like  a  swan,  gilt,  and  with  outspread 
iridescent  wings.  This  conveyance,  drawn  by  six 
horses,  was  brilliantly  lit  by  electricity  that  glowed 
on  cushions  of  sapphire  velvet  on  which  the  King 
lay  back,  his  haggard  face  pale  as  the  dead,  his  wild 
black  hair  covered  by  a  cap  ornamented  by  a  diamond 
aigrette,  his  eyes  full  of  incommunicable  thoughts, 
turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left,  as,  swift 
as  the  wind,  indifferent  to  hail  or  snow  or  howling 
storm,  he  fled  along  lonely  and  interminable  roads, 
down  precipitous  valleys,  past  whispering  woods,  and 
through  sleeping  villages,  a  haunted  man  fleeing  breath- 
lessly through  darkness  from  the  dread  fate  that 
pursued  him  and  would  not  be  outrun.  These  drives 
were  generally  continued  until  the  pale  light  of  dawn 
streaked  the  cold  grey  skies,  when  his  horses,  covered 
with  foam,  he  languid  from  fatigue,  reached  one  of 
his  mountain  palaces,  and  went  to  bed,  from  which 
he  did  not  rise  until  late  in  the  afternoon. 

Of  all  historical  personages,  those  who  appealed 
most  to  his  imagination,  and  whom  ultimately  he  came 
to  regard  as  living  realities,  were  Louis  XIV.,  Louis 
XV.,  and  Marie  Antoinette.  Not  only  did  he  erect 
palaces  in  imitation  of  those  in  which  they  had 
frittered  away  their  useless  lives,  but  statues  and 
pictures  of  them  were  placed  in  every  room  he  occupied. 
A  bust  of  that  ill-fated  Queen  was  so  situated  in  his 
bedroom  in  the  Royal  palace  at  Munich,  that  his  eyes 


tTbe  IRomance  of  a  /lDa&  /nbonarcb        103 

might  fall  upon  it  when  he  woke.  Not  far  from  it 
stood  a  bust  of  Louis  XIV.  This,  or  a  replica,  was 
frequently  honoured  with  an  invitation  to  the  King's 
dinner-table,  when  it  was  addressed  with  the  most 
ceremonious  respect.  To  one  in  particular  of  the 
statues  of  Marie  Antoinette  he  paid  profound  homage, 
and  after  standing  before  it  lost  in  admiration,  he 
would  back  from  its  presence.  His  belief  was  that 
this  representation  of  her  Majesty  shared  with  himself 
a  horror  of  being  stared  at  by  the  vulgar,  and  the 
servants  were  strictly  forbidden  to  raise  their  eyes  to 
her  face.  One  day  on  seeing  HefFelschwerdt,  the 
Royal  furrier,  boldly  look  at  the  Queen,  Ludwig 
compelled  him  to  kneel  down  before  her,  and  with 
outstretched  hands  to  implore  her  pardon. 


CHAPTER   IV 

The  King  Refuses  to  see  Wagner— The  First  Performance  of  Parsifal— 
Wagner  and  his  Family  Start  for  Venice— Life  in  the  Vendramin 
Palace— Wagner's  Sudden  Death— The  King's  Sorrow— A  Midnight 
Journey  to  the  Composer's  Resting-place— Ludvvig  Holds  Seances — 
His  Feelings  towards  the  Crown  Prince  Frederick — The  King's 
Extravagance — Seeks  Loans  from  Foreign  powers— The  Only  Joy 
of  his  Life — Strange  Punishments  Inflicted  on  his  Servants — Com- 
municates with  his  Ministers  through  the  Keyhole— Surrounded 
by  Shadow  Forms— Project  for  Deposing  him — Inquiry  into  his 
Condition — His  uncle,  Prince  Luitpold,  Proclaimed  Regent — Dis- 
approval of  the  King's  Subjects— Bismarck's  Help  is  Asked— The 
Chancellor's  Advice — Ludvvig  Defends  himself— Commissioners 
and  Doctors  are  Sent  to  the  Dungeons — Intent  on  Suicide — In  the 
Hands  of  Keepers— At  the  Castle  of  Berg- An  Eventful  Sunday 
Evening — Sought  and  Found — The  Empress  of  Austria  dreams  of 
the  King — Grief  of  the  People— Last  Scene  of  All. 

IN  May,  1882,  Wagner  passed  through  Munich 
on  his  way  home  from  Palermo,  where  he  had 
finished  the  score  of  Parsifal^  which  he  spoke  of  as 
a  '*  stage  consecrating  festival  play."  On  that  occasion 
the  King  refused  to  see  him.  This  was  possibly  due 
to  Ludwig's  mental  condition  at  the  time,  rather  than 
to  any  misunderstanding  between  them,  for  before 
the  month  ended  the  King  sent  Wagner  on  his  sixty- 
ninth  birthday    a    present  of   two  black  swans,  which 

104 


tbc  IRomance  ot  a  /llia^  /iDonavcb        105 

were  afterwards  regarded  as  birds  of  ill-omen.  The 
first  performance  of  Parsifal^  which  could  not  have 
been  given  if  his  Majesty  had  not  placed  the  orchestra 
of  the  Munich  Opera-House  at  the  composer's  disposal, 
took  place  on  July  26th,  1882.  At  the  close 
of  a  banquet  to  the  singers  on  the  previous  evening, 
Wagner  said  :  '*  May  all  the  actors  be  possessed  by  the 
devil,  and  those  in  the  auditorium  at  least  receive 
him.  If  you  do  not  all  become  crazy,  our  object 
will  not  have  been  attained."  Only  members  of  the 
Wagner  Societies  were  permitted  to  attend  the  two 
first  representations,  "so  as  to  be  able  to  enjoy  the 
new  art-work  without  being  disturbed  in  their  devotion 
by  rude  utterances  and  stupid  raillery,  as  they  were  at 
the  Nibelung  representations,"  as  was  stated  by  a  Berlin 
journal. 

In  the  following  September  Wagner  left  Bayreuth 
for  Italy,  in  the  hope  of  benefiting  his  health,  which 
from  various  causes,  especially  heart  trouble,  had  been 
unsatisfactory  for  some  time.  A  private  saloon  carriage 
conveyed  himself,  his  wife,  and  their  two  children, 
together  with  Bulow's  children,  governesses,  and 
servants  to  Venice,  where  they  occupied  a  first-floor 
suite  of  twenty-eight  rooms  in  the  Vendramin  palace 
on  the  Grand  Canal.  During  the  autumn,  his  health 
gave  no  special  cause  for  alarm,  and  he  was  supremely 
happy  in  the  companionship  of  his  wife,  who  under- 
stood and  worshipped  him  with  whole  hearted  devotion. 


io6  ube  iRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

His  mornings  were  spent  in  work,  after  an  early 
dinner  and  rest  he  floated  about  the  somnolent, 
soothing  canals,  was  rowed  to  the  Islands  of  Murano, 
or  sat  in  cafes  on  the  Piazetta,  while  the  evening 
was  given  to  music,  reading,  and  recitation.  Like  all 
sensitive  persons,  he  was  subject  to  varying  moods, 
when  his  spirits  rose  and  fell.  At  one  time  he  de- 
clared he  would  live  till  he  was  ninety,  while  at 
another  he  felt  assured  that  Parsifal  was  his  last  work, 
and  on  being  asked  why,  answered  because  he  was 
going  to  die.  Liszt  visited  him  in  November,  and 
while  in  the  Vendramin  palace  occupied  himself  in 
composing  a  piece  for  piano  and  violin,  called  The 
Mourning  Gondola,  as  if,  says  he,  "  I  were  guided  by 
a  presentiment."  On  January  13th,  1883,  Liszt  left 
Venice,  and  on  the  13th  of  the  following  month 
Wagner  died.  That  morning  he  had  risen  as  usual 
at  six  and  set  to  work.  A  gondola  had  been  ordered 
for  four  o'clock,  but  before  that  hour  a  severe  attack 
of  pain  seized  his  heart,  and  he  died  in  the  arms  of 
his  wife. 

The  German  Consul  at  Venice  was  the  first  to 
telegraph  the  news  to  Ludwig,  who  was  then  staying 
at  Neuschwanstein.  As  soon  as  possible  he  sent  a 
telegram  to  Frau  Wagner  expressing  his  grief,  and 
requesting  her  to  await  his  wishes  regarding  the 
removal  of  the  remains  to  Bavaria.  These  were 
expressed  by  the  special  messenger  he  sent  to  Venice, 


Zbc  IRomance  of  a  /iDab  /Iftonarcb        1^7 

Herr  Gross,  who  was  also  the  bearer  of  an  autographic 
letter  of  condolence,  and  a  wreath  bearing  the  words, 
"  To  the  Master,  Richard  Wagner,  from  his  devoted 
admirer  and  King,  Ludwig."  The  offer  made  by 
the  Venetian  municipality  of  an  official  funeral  was 
declined  ;  but  with  every  token  of  regret  and  respect 
the  body  was  conveyed  to  Bayreuth,  and  buried  in 
the  garden  behind  the  composer's  house.  The  King 
was  not  present  at  the  funeral,  but  was  represented 
by  Count  Pappenheim.  A  few  nights  later,  at  ten 
o'clock,  Frau  Wagner  received  a  telegram  to  say  his 
Majesty  was  on  his  way  to  visit  her  husband's  grave. 
Just  as  midnight  struck  in  the  church  tower  he  reached 
her  house,  having  travelled  by  special  train  as  far  as 
Schnabelweiss,  and  driven  in  a  coach  and  four  from 
there  to  Bayreuth,  Pale  as  the  dead  whom  he  had 
come  to  visit  at  this  solemn  hour,  his  long  black  hair 
dishevelled,  his  eyes  restless,  unfathomable,  full  of 
dread,  he  stood  before  her  muffled  in  his  cloak, 
asking  questions  to  whose  answers  he  scarce  Hstened, 
between  seconds  of  abstraction  and  silence.  Then 
by  the  light  of  a  lantern  making  an  orange  patch  in 
the  blackness,  he  was  guided  to  the  grave,  at  which 
he  gazed  steadily  for  a  few  moments,  strange  thoughts 
stirring  in  his  heart,  wild  questions  throbbing  in  his 
brain,  when  suddenly  he  turned  and  strode  towards 
his  carriage,  whose  horses  waited  impatiently,  the 
sound    of   their    pawing    hoofs    alone    breaking    the 


io8  Ubc  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

oppressive  stillness  of  the  night.      A  moment  later  he 
was  retracing  his  weary  journey  back  to  Munich. 

From  that  time  the  King's  mental  condition  became 
graver.     All  the  instruments  in  the  Royal  palaces  on 
which  Wagner  had  played  were  covered  with  crape  ; 
and  he  declared  he  would  never  listen  to  music  again. 
He    bitterly   reproached    himself  for    refusing    to    see 
the    composer   when   last    he   was   in    Munich,  and  in 
his    desire    to    express    a    personal    apology    and    hold 
communication  with   his  departed   friend,  he  attended 
spiritualistic  seances,  when  he  believed  his    desire  was 
gained,   and    that   Wagner   was  with  him   once  more. 
His   affection  for  the   musician   was   equalled   only   by 
his   detestation  of  the  Crown  Prince   Frederick,  who 
as  Inspector-General  of  the  armies  in  Germany,  visited 
Munich  annually.     Though  on  these  occasions  he  was 
lodged  at  the    Royal  residence    and   splendidly  enter- 
tained, Ludwig  would  never  receive  or  see  his  guest 
and    cousin,    but     always    absented    himself  from    the 
capital  on  the  plea  of  ill-health.     That  he  was  jealous 
of  the  Prince's  popularity  with  the  army  is  possible  ; 
but    it  has    been    suggested    that  his  enmity  was  also 
due    to     some    remarks    made    by    Frederick    on    his 
Majesty's  mode  of  life,   which    the   latter   never    for- 
gave.    As  a  result  he  contemplated  building  a  Bastille, 
chiefly    for     the      purpose     of    confining     the     future 
Emperor  in  its  dungeons.     As  the  time  it  would  take 
to  erect  would  delay  his  vengeance  too  long,  he  next 


Zbc  IRomance  of  a  fJ^a^  /in^onarcb        109 

decided  to  organise  a  society  of  banditti,  who  no 
doubt  would  be  picturesquely  dressed,  and  whose 
principal  business  it  would  be  to  kidnap  the  Prince, 
carry  him  to  the  Bavarian  mountains,  and  confine  him 
in  a  cave  where,  according  to  the  evidence  given  at 
the  Commission  to  inquire  into  his  condition,  Ludwig 
might  see  him  "  pine  away  with  grief  and  longing 
for  his  family." 

The  second  mission  of  the  banditti  was  to  rob  the 
banks  of  Berlin,  Vienna,  and  Munich  and  to  bring 
the  money  to  their  Royal  master,  that  he  might 
continue  the  building  of  his  palaces  that  had  been 
stopped  for  want  of  funds.  For  though  Ludwig  had 
inherited  large  fortunes  from  his  father  and  grand- 
father, and  received  a  handsome  revenue  from  the 
Civil  List,  he  had  spent  his  wealth  in  extravagant 
presents  to  his  favourities  and  in  the  erection  of  magni- 
ficent residences,  so  that  he  was  now  forty  thousand 
pounds  in  debt.  To  his  surprise  and  indignation  his 
Ministers  refused  to  procure  him  further  sums  to 
carry  out  his  wishes,  when  he  made  appeals  through 
his  adjutants  and  servants  for  loans  from  the 
Emperors  of  Brazil  and  Austria,  the  Shah  of  Persia, 
the  Sultan  of  Turkey,  the  King  of  Sweden,  and  the 
Rothschilds.  It  was  only  when  these  ungracious 
persons  had  refused  their  aid  that  the  banditti  were 
thought  of,  for  the  King  declared  he  must  have  money. 
In  a  letter  he  wrote  to   his    Court  furrier,  who   was 


no  TLbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

also  his  confidant,  he  orders  him  to  speak  to  a 
prominent  politician  named  Ziegler.  "  Tell  him,"  says 
this  communication,  which  was  placed  before  the 
Commission  of  Inquiry,  *'  the  present  Ministry  must 
go  ;  they  have  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  keep 
them,  but  if  he  manages  well  and  sets  them  packing, 
1  will  keep  him,  and  he  may  propose  his  colleagues. 
Be  quick  about  it.  Tell  him  that  in  addition  to  the 
arrears  he  must  raise  a  few  millions,  only  the  Chamber 
must  not  know  for  what  purpose,  and  you  must  get 
the  rest.  Tell  him  that  building  is  the  only  joy  of 
my  life,  and  that  since  all  my  work  has  been  so  shame- 
fully stopped  I  am  miserable.  All  day  long  I  think 
of  nothing  but  abdication,  suicide  ;  the  situation  is 
intolerable  ;  it  must  end.  The  building  of  my  castles 
must  proceed,  and  that  will  give  me  new  life.  Lay 
all  this  before  him.  It  is  an  unworthy  manner  of 
treating  me,  for  I  could  take  the  whole  Civil  List, 
it  is  my  right,  and  I  could  go  on  with  the  bedroom 
at  Linderhof,  St.  Hubert's  Pavilion,  and  the  building 
of  Herrenworth  and  Falkenstein.  The  happiness  of 
my  life  depends  upon  these.  Tell  Ziegler  he  must 
conquer  all  difficulties  and  triumph,  and  this  at  once  ; 
that  is  the  point." 

Crossed  in  his  desires  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  Ludwig  became  morose  and  vindictive.  He 
continually  spoke  of  sending  his  Ministers,  who 
among  other  names  he   called  "  insects,"   to  America, 


Zbc  IRomance  of  a  /IDa^  /IDonaccb 


III 


where  they  were  to  be  placed  under  police  super- 
vision— a  punishment  he  had  already  dealt  to  two  of 
his  servants  who  had  failed  to  recapture  a  bird  that 
had  escaped  from  its  cage.  Another  servant  who 
fell  under  his  displeasure  was  obliged  to  wear  on  his 
forehead  a  wafer  bearing  the  Royal  arms.  A  footman 
was  dressed  as  a  fool  and  made  to  ride  a  donkey  in 
public.  At  times  his  attendants  were  ordered  to 
prostrate  themselves  face  downwards  on  entering  his 
presence,  and  on  being  allowed  to  rise,  were  required 
to  approach  him  in  a  bent  position.  Above  all,  they 
were  forbidden  to  look  at  his  Majesty,  and  one  of 
them,  Meier,  who  had  been  his  valet  for  fourteen 
years,  was  sentenced  to  wear  a  black  mask  for  twelve 
months  because  he  had  looked  the  King  in  the  face. 

Occasionally  he  spat  in  the  faces  of  his  servants,  and 
beat  them  so  soundly  that,  according  to  the  evidence 
given  before  the  Commission  of  Inquiry  into  his  con- 
dition, and  from  which  these  particulars  are  taken, 
about  thirty  persons  were  more  or  less  injured  at  his 
hands,  while  one  man  died  from  the  blows  he  received. 
Another  man,  an  aeronaut  who  had  invented  a  flying 
machine  for  the  King,  was  suddenly  brought  to  the 
ground  and  to  his  death  while  experimenting  with  it. 
As  Ludwig  could  not  take  the  air  in  such  a  conveyance, 
he  resolved  to  have  a  carriage  drawn  by  peacocks  ;  but 
the  birds  being  too  stupid  to  enter  into  his  Majesty's 
schemes,  were   ignominiously   dismissed,  though  their 


112 


Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 


lives  were  spared.  For  the  last  two  years  of  his  life  he 
declined  to  see  "  the  rabble,"  otherwise  his  Ministers, 
and  all  communications  regarding  State  affairs  were 
conducted  through  his  grooms  and  stable-boys.  These 
were  dressed  in  Turkish  or  in  mediasval  costumes,  and 
served  his  meals  in  antique  dishes,  his  wine  in  horn 
drinking  cups.  And  not  only  were  they  forbidden  to 
look  him  in  the  face,  but  to  address  him,  his  orders  to 
them  being  conveyed  by  signs  whose  meanings  they 
were  obliged  to  guess  at. 

Through  the  winter  preceding  his  death,  he  at 
times  declared  it  was  summer,  and  to  prove  that  it 
was,  would  dine  out  of  doors,  and  at  night  row  about 
Lake  Sternberg,  he  apparently  having  lost  all  sense  of 
feeling  of  temperature.  At  other  times  he  would  lock 
himself  in  his  apartments,  and  whisper  his  orders 
through  a  keyhole,  those  who  heard  him  being  for- 
bidden to  reply,  but  to  scratch  on  a  panel  to  show  they 
understood. 

On  arriving  at  the  castle  of  Linderhof  or  when 
leaving  it,  he  affectionately  embraced  a  column  which 
stands  at  its  entrance  ;  he  bowed  with  the  utmost 
respect  to  a  tree  standing  in  the  grounds ;  and 
to  a  certain  hedge  he  gave  a  benediction  with  out- 
stretched arms.  In  the  gathering  dusk  he  would  start 
and  listen  to  whispering  voices  none  heard  but  him- 
self; or  to  sounds  of  footsteps  without  visible  feet 
that   fell    softly   as    they    approached    him    near    and 


XTbe  IRoinauce  of  a  /IDat)  /Ilbonaixb        113 

nearer  ;  or  his  dark  wild  eyes  would  watch  the  move- 
ments of  shadowy  figures  none  else  could  see,  who 
silent  and  dread,  came  and  went  unbidden,  un- 
dismissed. 

As  early  as  1875  a  project  was  mooted  to  depose 
Ludwig,  but  as  he  was  then  capable  of  attending  Cabinet 
meetings  and  of  transacting  business,  his  family  was 
opposed  to  this  suggestion  of  the  Ministry,  which 
must  call  attention  to  his  malady.  It  was  only  when 
the  nation  was  on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy  through  his 
extravagances,  when  he  persisted  in  asking  loans  from 
foreign  Powers,  when  he  refused  to  take  part  in  State 
affairs,  and  could  not  be  induced  to  sign  documents, 
that  his  deposition  was  decided  upon  by  the  Govern- 
ment, and  consented  to  by  his  family.  As  a  first  step 
the  Ministers,  who  had  carried  on  the  business  of  the 
country  on  their  own  responsibility  and  at  the  risk  of 
their  lives,  waited  on  the  King's  uncle.  Prince  Luitpold, 
and  asked  him  to  assume  the  Regency.  That  the 
change  might  be  effected  legally,  it  was  necessary  that 
evidence  should  be  produced  of  the  King's  madness. 
Four  eminent  doctors  were  commissioned  to  inquire 
into  his  condition.  As  it  was  difHcult  for  all  but  his 
servants  and  grooms  to  see  or  speak  to  his  Majesty,  the 
medical  men  were  obliged  to  represent  themselves  as 
agents  of  one  of  the  Powers  from  whom  he  had 
sought  to  borrow  money.  The  prospect  of  obtaining 
it   was  a  sufficient  passport  to  the  King,  whom   they 

VOL.    I.  8 


ri4  UM  IRomance  of  IRogaltg 

found  a  human  wreck  pitiable  to  see,  heart-rending  to 
talk  with.  As  a  result  of  their  visit  they  drew  up  a 
report,  signed  June  8th,  1886,  in  which  they  declared 
they  were  unanimous  in  their  opinion  that  he  suffered 
from  a  form  of  insanity  that  was  likely  to  develop, 
but  in  what  direction  it  was  impossible  to  say  ;  that 
this  disease  rendered  him  incapable  of  governing,  and 
that  they  believed  it  incurable.  Two  days  later  a 
proclamation  was  issued  announcing  that  Prince 
Luitpold  had  assumed  the  Regency  of  the  kingdom, 
as  the  King's  health  no  longer  permitted  him  to 
transact  affairs  of  State.  The  Government  having 
been  legally  reconstituted,  a  decree  was  passed  to 
ensure  the  safe  custody  of  his  Majesty's  person  by 
placing  about  him  proper  guardians  and  attendants. 

Strange  to  say,  this  action  was  not  popular  with  his 
subjects.  In  the  capital  they  had  suffered  no  incon- 
venience under  his  rule,  had  not  been  strained  by 
taxation,  and  were  therefore  unwilling  to  change  the 
old  order  of  things  for  a  new  which  might  not  be  so 
favourable  to  themselves.  In  the  mountain  districts, 
where  so  much  of  his  time  was  spent,  the  King's 
deposition  was  regarded  with  hostility.  In  the  erection 
of  splendid  palaces,  by  his  profuse  generosity,  he  had 
spent  money  freely  among  them.  The  fact  that  he 
was  seldom  seen  by  them,  save  by  accident  and  at 
night,  when  seated  in  his  swan-shaped  carriage  and 
bathed  in  a  flood  of  electric  light,  he  flashed  past  them 


XTbe  'tt^omance  of  a  /ll^a^  /iDonaixb        115 

on  lonely  mountain  roads  or  through  hill-perched 
villages  ;  that  he  dwelt  in  solitude  ;  that  he  sat  a 
solitary  spectator  of  operas  and  tragedies  ;  and  that  he 
was  not  as  other  men,  impressed  their  imaginations 
and  shadowed  them  with  awe.  Whether  sane  or 
insane,  it  seemed  to  them  almost  a  sacrilegious  act  to 
depose  their  King,  whom  they  were  ready  and  willing 
to  defend. 

News  of  the  events  that  were  taking  place  in 
Munich  reached  Ludwig  unofficially,  while  he  was 
staying  at  the  castle  of  Hohenschwangau,  and  was 
heard  by  him  with  wrathful  indignation.  "  I  could 
endure  to  have  the  government  taken  from  me,  but 
to  be  declared  insane,  that  I  cannot  outlive,"  he  said. 
At  this  crisis  his  friend  Field-Adjutant  Durckheim, 
who  was  hostile  to  the  course  taken  by  the  Ministry, 
sought  the  advice  and  help  of  Bismarck,  whom  Ludwig 
admired  and  with  whom  he  was  on  friendly  terms. 
Mounting  his  horse,  Durckheim  rode  in  breathless 
haste  until  he  crossed  the  frontier  and  reached  a 
telegraph  office  in  the  Tyrol,  where  his  message  was 
safe  from  interference.  Then  across  the  wires  he 
explained  the  situation  to  the  German  Chancellor, 
whom  he  begged  to  interfere  in  Ludwig's  behalf.  In 
answer  he  was  told,  '*  His  Majesty  should  proceed 
at  once  to  Munich  and  show  himself  to  his  people  ; 
he  should  appear  at  the  meeting  of  the  Chambers,  and 
look  after  his  own   interests."     In   giving  this  advice 


ii6  Ube  IRomauce  ot  IRo^aiti? 

Bismarck  believed  that  the  King  would  follow  it  if  sane, 
but  that  he  would  be  unable  to  conquer  his  aversion 
to  being  seen  if  he  were  mad.  He  did  not  go  to 
Munich,  but  as  Bismarck  said,  "  he  drifted  to  his 
fate." 

Instead  of  going  to   the   capital,  Ludwig  removed 
from  Hohenschwangau    to   Neuschwanstein,   which    it 
will  be   remembered  was   higher  up    in    the  Bavarian 
mountains,   and  perched  on  a    spur  of  one  of  them. 
Here  he  proposed  to  await  events.     On  the  evening 
of  June    9th    four    Commissioners    appointed   by  the 
Government  to  announce  his  deposition  to  the  King, 
together    with    three    doctors    and    the    keepers    who 
were  to  take  charge  of  him,  reached  Hohenschwangau. 
A  notice  of   his   Majesty's  deposition  was   no  sooner 
posted  on  the  door  of  the  village  Town  Hall  than  it 
was  torn  down.     On  hearing  of  their  arrival  the  King 
prepared  for  resistance.     Telegrams  were  sent  by  him 
to    the    German    Emperor,   to    Bismarck,  and    to    the 
Emperor    of    Austria,    asking    for    their    help,    all    of 
which  were  intercepted.     He  also  ordered  a  battalion 
of  infantry  from  the  neighbouring  town  of  Kempten, 
and    sent     messages     far    and    wide    to    his    faithful 
mountaineers  to  come  and  protect  their  King. 

In  the  chill  grey  of  dawn,  while  rain  fell  heavily 
and  a  dense  fog  hung  above  the  dreary  woods,  the 
doctors.  Commissioners,  and  keepers  drove  up  the 
steep  and  winding  mountain  road  leading  to  the  castle 


XTbe  IRomancc  of  a  /IDaC>  /IDonarcb        117 

of  Neuschwanstein,  which,  with  its  turrets,  pinnacles, 
and  towers,  seemed  some  fantastic  structure  fashioned 
out  of  mists.  At  the  great  gates  they  were  met  by 
gendarmes  who  sternly  and  threateningly  refused  them 
entrance.  Parade  of  authority  and  persuasion  being 
alike  unavailing,  they  were  obliged  to  return.  As 
they  went  down  the  mountain  side  they  were  met 
by  a  crowd  of  anxious  peasants  hurrying  up,  tan- 
faced,  brawny,  and  wild-looking  men,  most  of  them 
armed,  all  of  them  eager  to  fall  upon  those  who 
would  molest  his  Majesty.  As  he  was  not  among 
them,  the  Commissioners  and  doctors  were  allowed 
to  pass  unhurt.  But  scarcely  had  they  reached  the 
lower  castle  in  safety,  when  it  was  surrounded  by 
a  troop  of  gendarmes,  whose  commanding  officer 
arrested  them  and  conducted  them  back  to  Neuschwan- 
stein. They  were  not  honoured  with  an  audience, 
but  the  King  commanded  that  they  should  be  flung 
into  the  dungeons,  and  there  chained  and  flogged 
till  the  blood  flowed.  Later  an  order  was  given 
that  their  eyes  should  be  put  out.  There  were 
neither  dungeons  nor  chains  in  the  castle,  so  the 
"  traitors,"  as  his  Majesty  called  them,  were  placed  in 
the  guardhouse,  whence  they  were  presently  allowed 
to  depart,  and  by  six  in  the  afternoon  were  on  their 
way  back  to  Munich. 

The  day  following,  the  doctors  and  keepers,    with 
whom  was  the  captain  of  the  gendarmes  at  the  castle, 


ii8  Ube  IRomance  of  IRoi^alti? 

whose  authority  would  be  recognised  by  his  men, 
returned  to  Neuschwanstein.  Instead  of  their  visit 
being  resented,  it  was  now  welcomed,  as  it  was 
momentarily  feared  by  those  around  the  King  that  he 
would  commit  suicide.  It  was  evidently  for  this  pur- 
pose that  he  continually  asked  for  the  key  of  the  tower, 
which  his  valet  assured  him  had  been  mislaid  ;  the 
tower  evidently  seeming  to  him  a  fitting  place  from 
which  to  make  a  dramatic  ending  by  flinging  himself  into 
the  black  depths  below.  As  he  was  in  a  highly  excited 
condition,  restless,  turbulent,  muttering  unintelligibly, 
dreading  the  capture  he  foresaw,  it  was  thought 
probable  that  if  the  doctors  and  keepers  entered  his 
apartments  he  would  jump  from  one  of  the  windows. 
Therefore,  while  unaware  that  they  were  in  the 
castle,  he  was  told  by  his  valet  that  the  key  of  the 
tower  had  been  found.  On  this  he  came  from  his 
rooms  with  a  swift  determined  step,  but  when  a  little 
way  down  the  corridor,  the  keepers  advanced  from 
their  hiding-places  and  laid  firm,  clutching  hands 
on  his  arms.  Stunned  by  the  suddenness  and  in- 
dignity of  the  act,  he  made  no  effort  to  escape,  but 
asked,  "  What  do  you  want?  What  does  this  mean  ^  " 
One  of  the  doctors,  von  Gudden,  came  forward,  and 
saying  that  this  was  the  saddest  task  that  had  ever 
fallen  to  his  lot,  explained  that  owing  to  his  Majesty's 
malady  the  Regency  had  been  entrusted  to  his  uncle. 
The  doctor  added  that  he  would  have  the   honour  of 


TTbe  IRomance  of  a  /ll^a^  /IDonarcb        119 

conducting  his  Majesty  to  the  castle  of  Berg  that 
afternoon. 

The  King  then  allowed  himself  to  be  led  to  his 
bedroom,  where  the  keepers  released  him  but  kept 
guard  at  the  windows.  Pale  and  haggard,  with  wild 
eyes  and  twitching  lips,  he  stood  in  the  centre  of 
the  room  looking  distractedly  around  him.  Then 
with  a  supreme  effort  he  mastered  himself  and  spoke 
in  a  calm  collected  manner.  He  remembered  meeting 
Dr.  Gudden  some  years  previously,  and  made  many 
inquiries  about  Prince  Otto.  When  they  were 
answered,  he  suddenly  asked,  *'  How  can  you  declare 
that  I  am  insane  when  you  have  never  examined  me 
and  know  nothing  of  my  condition  .'' "  When  told 
that  there  were  sufficient  proofs  of  his  malady  to  show 
that  it  was  necessary  some  measures  should  be  taken 
to  cure  it,  he  asked  how  long  would  the  cure  take. 
Dr.  Gudden  thought  it  could  not  be  accomplished 
in  less  than  a  year.  *'  Well,  it  could  be  made  shorter, 
couldn't  it,  Dr.  Gudden  ? "  he  said.  "  You  could  get 
rid  of  me,  like  the  Sultan,  for  it  is  very  easy  to  put 
a  man  out  of  the  way." 

"  Your  Majesty,  my  honour  forbids  me  to  reply," 
Dr.  Gudden  said. 

Without  offering  any  opposition  the  King  entered 
the  carriage  which  was  to  take  him  away,  only 
stopping  in  the  courtyard  to  whisper  a  command 
to  his  valet  to  procure  him  some  poison.     The  drive 


120  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

to  the  castle  of  Berg  was  without  incident,  Ludwig 
remaining  passive,  silent,  apparently  lost  in  thought, 
his  mind  probably  busy  with  some  scheme  for  his 
escape.  He  arrived  on  Saturday,  June  I2th,  1886, 
and  after  a  restless  night,  wished  to  rise  at  two  o'clock, 
but  was  persuaded  to  remain  in  bed  until  six.  In  the 
forenoon  of  the  next  day  he  was  taken  for  a  walk 
by  Dr.  Gudden,  during  which  he  seemed  so  calm 
and  reasonable,  that  the  latter  sent  a  telegram  to 
Prince  Luitpold,  saying  all  was  going  on  wonderfully 
well  with  his  Majesty.  In  the  afternoon  the  patient 
became  restless  and  sent  for  the  second  doctor  in 
attendance,  Milller,  to  whom  he  spoke  of  poisons, 
and  the  ease  with  which  a  man  could  be  prevented 
from  ever  waking  from  sleep,  a  subject  that  seemed 
to  obsess  his  brain. 

After  a  dinner  served  at  six  o'clock,  the  King  was 
taken  for  another  walk  by  Dr.  Gudden,  who  deceived 
by  his  calmness,  turned  to  the  keeper  as  they  left  the 
castle,  and  dispensed  with  his  attendance,  for  which 
he  said  there  was  no  need.  All  day  a  dull  cloudy 
sky  had  threatened  rain,  which  began  to  fall  heavily 
about  eight  o'clock.  As  his  Majesty  and  Dr.  Gudden 
had  not  returned  by  that  time,  Dr.  Miiller  became 
uneasy  and  sent  first  one  and  then  another  gendarme 
to  look  for  them  in  the  adjoining  park.  As  they 
could  not  be  found,  a  searching  party  of  aide-de-camps, 
keepers,   soldiers,   and    servants    was    organised.     Ex- 


Ubc  IRomancc  of  a  /II^a^  /lOonarcb        121 

citedly,  fearfully,  lanterns  in  hand,  ears  strained, 
they  went  through  the  drenched  and  deserted  park, 
but  without  finding  the  sHghtest  trace  of  those  they 
sought.  All  hope  of  finding  them  alive  died  out  as 
party  after  party  returned  to  the  castle.  Then 
suddenly,  at  about  half-past  ten,  a  wild  commotion 
arose  when  a  servant  ran  breathlessly  with  the 
startHng  news  that  the  King's  hat  had  been  found 
beside  the  lake.  Scarce  was  this  told,  when  another 
searcher  brought  word  that  his  Majesty's  coat  and 
overcoat,  with  Dr.  Gudden's  hat  and  umbrella,  had 
also  been  discovered  on  the  bank. 

At  that  Dr.  Mi^iller  ran  down  to  the  lake,  woke  up 
a  fisherman  named  Huber,  and  with  him  rowed  slowly 
and  silently  over  the  dull  waters  that  reflected  the 
searching  gleam  of  a  lantern.  Before  long  Huber 
gave  a  sudden  cry,  and  jumping  into  the  lake,  clutched 
at  something  half  seen  that  was  drifting  past  them. 
A  glance  showed  it  was  the  King,  but  before  attention 
could  be  given  to  him,  a  second  object,  stark  and 
ghastly,  passed  as  if  pursuing  that  other  figure,  when 
it  was  also  seized  and  pulled  into  the  boat.  Haste 
was  made  to  gain  the  shore  when,  although  it  was 
apparent  that  such  attempts  were  useless,  efforts  were 
made  to  restore  animation,  and  continued  until  the 
castle  clock  rang  midnight  with  heavy  strokes  that 
sounded  as  a  passing  bell.  Whether  the  King,  intent 
on    suicide,  not    only  drowned    himself   but   the  man 


122  XTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

who  would  have  rescued  him,  or  whether  he  lost  his 
life  in  striving  to  gain  the  opposite  shore  with  the 
intention  of  escaping  from  his  captors,  are  questions 
that  must  remain  for  ever  unanswered. 

At  the  time  this  tragedy  happened,  the  Empress 
of  Austria  was  staying  at  the  castle  of  FeldafRng, 
situated  on  the  hills  above  Lake  Starnberg,  and 
almost  opposite  the  castle  of  Berg.  Always  his 
favourite  cousin,  she  and  her  daughter,  the  Princess 
Gisela,  were  the  only  women  with  whom  he  was  on 
terms  of  friendship.  Before  his  eccentricities  had 
reached  the  stage  of  madness,  he  had  often  received 
visits  from  the  Empress,  and  she  alone  had  the 
privilege  of  entering  at  all  times  the  guarded  island 
of  roses  in  Lake  Starnberg.  Sharing  his  tastes  for 
art  and  architecture,  and  shrinking  like  him  from 
intercourse  with  humanity,  a  strong  bond  of  sympathy 
existed  between  them,  as  has  already  been  mentioned. 
On  that  Sunday  night  when  Ludwig  met  his  death, 
the  Empress,  all  unconscious  of  his  fate,  retired  to 
rest  early.  A  couple  of  hours  later,  as  the  anony- 
mous writer  of  that  fascinating  book.  The  Martyrdom 
of  an  Empress,  relates,  a  wild  scream  alarmed  her 
Majesty's  attendants,  who  on  rushing  to  her  room, 
found  her  almost  beside  herself  with  terror,  because 
of  a  dream  from  which  she  had  just  wakened,  and 
which  she  could  hardly  convince  herself  was  not 
reality.     In    this   she    had    seen    Ludwig  standing  by 


THE    EMPRESS    OF    AUSTRIA    IN    COURT    DRESS. 


[Fncina  page  i2?. 


zrbe  IRomance  of  a  ^a&  /IDonarcb        123 

her  bed,  looking  pale  and  distraught,  water  pouring 
from  his  hair  and  clothes  in  torrents  that  threatened 
to  flood  the  room  and  drown  her. 

In  the  grey  of  morning,  news  of  the  tragedy- 
reached  her.  The  following  night,  weighed  down  by 
heavy  sorrow  and  sombre  forebodings,  she  was  rowed 
across  the  lake  in  the  drenching  mists  and  taken  to 
the  chapel  in  the  castle  of  Berg  where  he  lay. 
Having  placed  between  his  hands  a  bunch  of  the 
white  blossoms  he  loved,  she  asked  to  be  left  alone 
with  him.  Then  she  went  down  on  her  knees  beside 
him,  sobs  choking  her,  pity  rending  her  heart,  while 
she  implored  mercy  for  this  man,  haunted  through 
life  and  doomed  to  a  tragic  death  by  some  mysterious 
fate.  Never  until  then  had  she  fully  realised  the 
infinite  relief  and  solace  given  by  her  faith  in  teach- 
ing that  loving  help  may  be  afforded  by  prayer  to 
the  departed.  An  hour  of  silence  and  gloom  passed 
before  those  who  waited  outside  re-entered  the  chapel, 
where  they  found  the  Empress  lying  senseless  on  the 
floor.  When  with  some  difficulty  consciousness  was 
restored,  she  turned  imploring  eyes  on  those  around 
her,  saying,  '*  For  God's  sake  release  the  King.  He 
is  only  pretending  to  be  dead  that  he  may  be  left 
in  peace  and  not  tormented  any  more." 

On  the  morning  of  June  15th,  after  a  requiem  was 
sung,  the  King's  remains  were  taken  to  Munich  and 
placed  in  the  Court  Chapel.     The  dense  crowds  that 


124  Xlbe  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

for  days  flocked  to  pray  for  and  say  farewell  to  the 
King  included  large  numbers  of  goatherds  from  the 
Bavarian  highlands  and  peasants  from  the  Tyrol. 
Such  scenes  of  grief  had  never  been  witnessed  as 
those  which  took  place  in  this  church,  dark  save  for 
the  lights  standing  like  sentinels  around  that  blue- 
draped  catafalque.  Men  cried  unashamed  of  their 
tears,  women  sobbed,  the  poorest  brought  wild-flowers 
which  they  knew  were  loved  by  this  man  who  had 
exercised  an  extraordinary  fascination  over  them. 
On  Saturday  morning,  the  19th,  another  requiem  Mass 
was  sung  for  his  soul,  after  which  they  carried  his 
body  through  the  city  draped  in  black  and  showing 
every  sign  of  sorrow.  The  doleful  procession,  which 
took  care  to  avoid  the  streets  and  squares  to  which 
he  had  an  especial  antipathy,  was  headed  by  the 
veterans  of  the  Bavarian  army,  together  with  deputa- 
tions from  the  Prussian  Hussars,  the  Austrian  infantry, 
and  the  Russian  dragoon  regiment  of  which  Ludwig, 
who  hated  warfare,  was  honorary  colonel.  Next 
came  five-and-twenty  Gugelmanner  or  Brothers  of 
the  Misericordia,  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  black 
habits,  their  eyes  alone  visible,  candles  in  hand,  their 
hoarse  voices  chanting  prayers.  The  chief  mourners 
were  the  Regent  and  his  sons,  and  immediately  behind 
them,  side  by  side,  walked  the  Crown  Princes  of 
Austria  and  of  Germany,  who  were  soon  to  follow 
Ludwig    farther  than  the  grave.       Then   after  a  long 


trbe  IRomance  of  a  /llbab  /IBonaixb        125 

line  of  minor  princes,  grand  dukes,  and  officers  of 
State,  came  an  immense  crowd  of  grief-stricken  people. 
Arriving  at  the  ancient  church  of  St.  Michael,  the 
remains  were  interred  in  its  vault  to  which  three 
seals  were  attached,  its  three  keys  being  severally 
given  to  the  churchwarden,  the  Minister  for  Foreign 
Affairs,  and  the  Court  Grand  Master.  The  King's 
heart  was  then  taken  under  an  escort  of  cavalry  to 
the  Pilgrimage  Church  of  Alt  Getting,  where  the 
hearts  of  the  dead  Sovereigns  and  Princes  of  Bavaria 
are  inurned. 

At  Ludwig's  death  his  brother,  Prince  Gtto,  became 
King  of  Bavaria.  But  as  his  madness  prevented  him 
from  ruling,  his  uncle,  Prince  Luitpold,  continued  to 
act  as  Regent.  The  latter's  eldest  son  Prince  Ludwig, 
who  is  heir  presumptive  to  the  throne,  married  Marie 
Theresa,  Princess  of  Modena,  who  is  a  direct  de- 
scendant of  Charles  I.  of  England. 


II 

THE    TRAGEDY    OF    THE    DUCHESSE 

D'ALENgON 


127 


CHAPTER    I 

Duke  Maximilian  of  Bavaria — The  Duchess  Ludovica — Happy  Children 
— The  Strange  Fate  of  Five  Sisters — Prediction  of  a  Bavarian 
Gipsy — The  Princess  Sophie  as  Queen-Elect — The  King  of 
Bavaria  Breaks  his  Engagement — Supposed  Reasons  for  his 
Action — The  Princess  Sophie  Marries  Ferdinand,  Due  d'Alengon — 
Her  Hatred  of  Ceremony  and  Convention — Among  the  Woods 
at  Vincennes — A  Superb  Trio  of  Beautiful  Women — Intends  to 
Sue  for  a  Divorce — Alarm  of  the  Orleans  Family — The  Due  de 
Nemours'  Arguments — His  Daughter-in-Lavv's  Replies — The  Duke 
has  Doubts  of  her  Sanity — The  Opinion  of  a  Doctor — The 
Duchess  is  Sent  to  a  Sanatorium — The  Efforts  of  a  Dominican 
Friar — A  Change  of  Opinion  Shows  Recovery — Marriage  of  her 
Children — Devotion  to  the  Poor — The  Charity  Bazaar  in  the 
Rue  Jean  Goujon — A  Brilliant  Scene — A  Cry  of  Fire — A  Huge 
Brazier — The  Duchess's  Presence  of  Mind — Her  Resolve  to 
Remain  Until  Others  were  Saved — The  Last  Sight  she  Saw — 
Terrible  Scenes — The  End  of  All. 

FROM  earliest  youth  the  fair,  delicate  features  of 
the  Princess  Sophie  of  Bavaria  had  that  pensive, 
almost  melancholy  expression  which  often  shadows 
and  sweetens  the  countenances  of  those  fated  to  tragic 
deaths.  Clear  in  its  complexion,  her  long,  rather 
narrow  face  was  lighted  by  eyes  whose  colour  was 
the  blue  of  violets,  its  crowning  glory  a  mass  of 
auburn  hair,  sunny  in  its  depths,  soft  and  fine  as  silk, 

VOL.    I.  129  9 


I30  XTbe  IRomance  of  IRoi^alt^ 

which  she  generally  wore  plaited  and  piled  above  her 
head  like  a  diadem. 

Her  father,  Duke  Maximilian  of  Bavaria,  generally 
known   as  ''  the   Jolly  Duke,"    because   of  his   hatred 
of  conventionaUty,    his   boundless    good    nature,    and 
his    love    of    ease  ;    and    her    mother,    the    Duchess 
Ludovica,  a   clever  linguist,  a   skilled    musician,  sage 
and  sympathetic,   an    ardent    student,  and    a    devoted 
mother,  were  the  parents  of  five  daughters  who  born 
in  the  old  castle  of  Possenhofen,  near  Munich,  spent 
a  childhood  the  happiest,  most  untrammelled  imagin- 
able :    running    wild    and   free  about   the  surrounding 
woods,    nut-gathering,    seeking    strange    flowers    and 
herbs,   climbing  the    Bavarian   Alps,    and   sharing  the 
sports  of  their  brothers.     From  such  a  life  they  went 
out  into  a  world  unlike  that  they  had  known,  to  mate 
with    sorrow  or   to  meet   with  death  ;    for   the  eldest 
died  soon  after  marriage  ;  a  second  became  Queen  of 
Naples  only  to   be  flung   from   her  throne  ;    a    third, 
the   Countess  Trani,   was   widowed  by  the  suicide  of 
her  husband  ;  a  fourth,  the  Empress  of  Austria,  after 
enduring  inexpressible  griefs,  was  murdered  ;  while  for 
the  Princess  Sophie  was  reserved  the  cruellest  fate  of  all. 
This  it  is  said,  was  predicted  for  her  by  a  Bavarian 
gipsy    woman,    olive    skinned    and    sad    eyed,    whom 
during  her  wanderings  in  the  woods,  the  Princess  met 
one  day,  at  a  time  when  it  seemed  her  peaceful  joyous 
life  might  go  on  for  ever. 


TLbc  ZvtiQct>'s  of  tbe  DucF^esse  ^'Hlcncon   131 

*'  Do  not  fear  water,"  said  this  woman  of  the  seeing 
eye,  as  the  young  girl  held  out  her  palm,  "  but  beware 
of  another  element  ;  for  that  which  is  the  enemy  of 
water  is  thy  enemy." 

The  favourite  child  and  constant  companion  of  her 
father,  she  shared  his  love  of  horses  and  dogs  ;  she 
was  the  wilHng  helper  of  her  brother,  Duke  Charles 
Theodore,  in  those  boyish  endeavours  to  heal  the 
ailments  of  the  Bavarian  peasants  which  foreshadowed 
the  devotion  to  philanthropy  and  skill  as  a  doctor 
and  oculist  that  has  made  him  famous  and  beloved  ; 
while  from  her  mother  she  inherited  a  love  of  music 
and  art.  So  that,  sympathetic,  beautiful,  and  accom- 
plished, she  was  a  bride  whom  the  highest  and  noblest 
might  desire  to  win.  At  first  it  seemed  as  if  she 
were  destined  to  sit  upon  a  throne,  for  when  it  was 
thought  advisable  for  Ludwig,  the  young  King  of 
Bavaria,  to  marry,  she  was  selected  by  his  mother, 
who  proposed  to  her  on  his  behalf. 

Accepting  her  position  as  bride-elect,  she  drove 
about  with  the  King  when  it  pleased  his  Majesty  to 
invite  her,  appeared  with  him  in  his  box  at  the  opera- 
house,  sat  to  the  artist  who  engraved  her  likeness 
with  that  of  her  future  husband  for  the  medals  that 
were  to  commemorate  their  marriage,  and  showed 
a  vivid  interest  in  the  preparations  for  that  event. 
As  already  stated,  Ludwig  within  a  brief  space 
of  the   date   fixed   for   their   wedding,    suddenly    and 


132  ZTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alti^ 

determinedly  declared  his  intention  not  to  marry  his 
cousin.  This  announcement  created  the  wildest 
surprise  among  his  subjects,  who  in  seeking  a  cause 
for  what  was  solely  due  to  his  eccentricity,  framed  a 
score  of  stories.  Among  them  the  most  generally 
accepted  was  that  which  stated  that  an  opera-singer 
who  had  fallen  violently  in  love  with  him  resolved  to 
hinder  his  marriage  with  the  Princess  Sophie,  from 
whom  in  some  way  she  managed  to  abstract  a  turquoise 
ring  given  to  her  by  his  Majesty.  Presenting  this  to 
a  young  lieutenant  in  the  King's  body-guard,  who 
was  deeply  enamoured  of  her,  the  singer  bade  him 
wear  it  for  her  sake.  This  the  officer,  young  in 
years  and  rich  in  vanity,  willingly  did,  on  which  the 
King  catching  sight  of  it,  immediately  and  impetu- 
ously, after  the  manner  of  heroes  in  dramas  and 
novels,  broke  off  his  engagement  to  the  Princess, 
whom  on  evidence  so  slight,  he  credited  with  being 
false  to  him. 

Unlike  those  who  figure  in  the  pages  of  romance 
or  on  the  stage,  the  story  failed  to  end  happily  in 
reuniting  the  engaged  couple  after  chapters  or  acts 
of  mystification  or  despair  ;  for  soon  the  King  began 
to  betray  signs  of  the  malady  that  led  to  his  tragic 
death,  while  two  years  later,  in  September,  1888, 
the  Princess  became  the  wife  of  Ferdinand,  Due 
d'Alen^on,  second  son  of  the  Due  de  Nemours,  and 
grandson    of  Louis    Philippe.     The   Prince,  who  was 


tbe  Uraoeb^^  ot  tbe  Ducbesse  b'Hlciicon    133 

the  handsomest  of  all  the  Orleans  family,  was  at  first 
devoted  to  his  beautiful  and  intellectual  wife,  who  in 
the  course  of  years  presented  him  with  a  son  and  a 
daughter.  Like  her  father,  "  the  Jolly  Duke,"  like 
her  eldest  brother,  who  renounced  his  rights  of  suc- 
cession to  marry  morganatically  Henriette  Mendel,  an 
actress,  and  like  her  sister,  the  Empress  of  Austria, 
she  felt  insufferably  bored  and  trammelled  by  the 
ceremonies  and  conventions  that  hedge  Royalty  and 
smother  natural  feelings.  Pitiful  and  laughable  seemed 
to  her  the  paltry  efforts,  mean  devices,  and  base  flat- 
teries of  those  who  peopled  courts  and  sought  pleasure 
in  their  circles.  And  never  was  she  so  happy  as  when, 
far  removed  from  them,  she  breathed  the  pure  air  and 
lived  the  free  life  of  the  country  ;  such  as  when  at 
Vincennes,  where  with  her  children  she  wandered  in 
the  deep  shade  of  fragrant  woods,  visited  unattended 
the  sick  and  needy,  whom  she  left  as  enriched  by  her 
sympathy  as  by  her  gifts  ;  or  when  she  rode  over  hill 
and  dale  with  her  sisters,  the  Empress  of  Austria  and 
the  ex-Queen  of  Naples,  a  superb  trio  of  beautiful 
women  and  splendid  equestrians. 

The  greater  part  of  her  life  was  spent  in  Munich, 
where  she  must  often  have  seen  flash  past  her  the 
Royal  carriage,  in  a  corner  of  which  shrank  the 
King  whose  queen  she  had  so  nearly  been.  In  her 
spacious  home  in  this  quaint  and  ancient  city,  she 
delighted  in  surrounding  herself  with  artists,  singers, 


134  Zhc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

and  authors,  whom  she  hospitably  entertained.  The 
pain  of  seeing  their  affections  slighted  and  sup- 
planted, which  so  many  wives  are  fated  to  bear,  was 
not  spared  her.  That  her  experiences  were  not  un- 
usual was  little  consolation.  Intellectual  and  original, 
her  views  of  life  and  conduct  did  not  run  in  the  con- 
ventional stream,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  the  fact 
of  being  a  princess  ought  not  necessarily  to  force  her 
to  endure  wrongs  that  stung  and  humiliated  her  as  a 
wife.  To  one  of  her  Church  and  of  her  order,  the  step 
of  freeing  herself  from  the  marriage  bond  must  have 
appeared  desperate  ;  but  for  all  that  she  resolved  to 
take  it.  She  therefore  made  plain  her  intention  of 
seeking  a  divorce  from  her  husband.  This  resolve 
came  as  a  thunderbolt  to  the  Orleans  family,  who 
foresaw  in  it  the  overthrow  of  their  still  cherished 
schemes  to  regain  the  throne  of  France  ;  for  such  a 
scandal,  it  was  argued,  so  contrary  to  the  doctrines  of 
the  Church,  would  be  a  signal  for  all  Catholics,  on 
whose  adherence  they  counted,  to  desert  the  Orleanist 
cause. 

Summoned  in  wild  haste,  her  husband's  family 
gathered  round  her,  the  Due  de  Nemours  at  their  head. 
Overwhelmed  with  rage  and  indignation,  he  represented 
to  her  that  her  intended  action  must  prove  a  fatal  blow 
to  his  House,  which  elicited  from  her  the  astonishing 
opinion  that  crowns  were  a  heavy  weight,  kingship  a 
responsible    office,    and    that  in   the   track  of  Royalty 


Zbc  Uraae^^  of  tbe  Bucbesse  ^'Hlencon    135 

followed  woe.  Distraught  by  such  an  answer,  he 
pointed  out  that  the  scandal  of  a  divorce  would  hinder 
her  children  from  making  suitable  alliances.  To  this 
she  replied  that  her  daughter  would  probably  be  far 
happier  as  the  wife  of  a  professional  man  than  as  that 
of  a  scion  of  Royalty. 

Such  radical  ideas  made  it  clear  to  the  Duke  that 
her  mind  was  unhinged.  It  also  made  his  duty  clear 
to  him.  Summoning  a  doctor  to  examine  the 
Duchess,  her  father-in-law  was  assured  that  his 
opinion  was  correct,  for  the  medical  man  declared  she 
suffered  frorr  a  severe  nervous  disorder  which  could 
best  be  treated  within  the  high  walls  of  a  lunatic 
asylum.  Grieved  as  the  family  were  at  this  verdict, 
they  agreed  that  it  was  best  for  her  welfare  that  she 
should  be  placed  under  restraint,  and  she  was  therefore 
taken  to  a  private  sanatorium  near  Gratz.  Here 
she  was  constantly  visited  by  a  Dominican  friar  famed 
for  his  piety  and  persuasiveness.  In  the  course  of  a 
short  time  both  impressed  her  ;  she  became  deeply 
religious,  joined  the  third  order  of  St.  Dominick, 
abandoned  her  intention  of  seeking  a  divorce,  and 
resigned  herself  to  her  fate.  Simultaneously  with 
this  resolution  came  the  announcement  of  her  com- 
plete recovery.  Once  more  she  was  a  free  woman, 
somewhat  sadder  and  paler  than  before,  but  with  an 
added  sweetness  to  her  pensive  smile,  her  violet  eyes 
showing  shadowy  impenetrable  depths  of  calm. 


136  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

Both  her  children  married  to  the  satisfaction  of 
their  family  ;  her  son,  Emmanuel,  Due  de  Vendome, 
wedding  a  daughter  of  the  Count  of  Flanders,  son  of 
Leopold,  the  first  King  of  the  Belgians  ;  while  her 
daughter,  the  Princess  Louise,  became  the  wife  of 
Prince  Alphonse  of  Bavaria,  cousin  of  Ludwig  the 
mad  monarch,  and  son  of  the  Regent,  Prince  Luitpold. 

Henceforth  the  Duchesse  d'Alen^on  devoted  her 
whole  life  to  charitable  works,  and  never  did  she  seem 
more  happy  than  when  attending  the  sick  or  helping 
the  poor.  It  was  while  engaged  in  doing  good  that 
she  met  her  terrible  death  ;  she  being  one  of  the 
Royal,  noble,  and  aristocratic  women  who  interested 
themselves  in  the  bazaar  organised  by  the  Fr^res  de 
I'Assomption  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  of  Paris. 

To  accommodate  this  fancy  fair,  a  temporary 
structure  of  light  varnished  pine-wood,  with  a  tarred 
tarpaulin  over  its  roof,  was  erected  on  a  piece  of  waste 
ground  formerly  occupied  by  a  stable  in  the  Rue 
Jean  Goujon,  and  not  far  from  the  Champs  Elys6es. 
Interiorly  the  ugliness  of  its  yawning  roof  was  hidden 
by  flags  and  banners.  Its  booths  or  stalls  were  con- 
structed of  painted  canvas  and  wood  to  resemble  shops 
in  a  street  of  old  Paris.  At  the  end  of  this  long 
narrow  building,  and  connected  with  it  was  a  small 
room,  also  of  wood,  entrance  to  which  was  gained  by 
a  turnstile,  where  cinematograph  pictures  were  shown. 
There  were   nine  doors  in  all,   three  of  which  opened 


SOPHIE    CHARLOTTE,    UUCHESSE    D  ALENCON. 


[Facing  page  136. 


tTbe  ZEraGe^^  of  tbe  Ducbesse  &'Blencon    137 

on  the  Rue  Jean  Goujon,  one  at  the  side,  and  five  at 
the  back.  On  the  afternoon  of  May  4th,  1897,  while 
all  Paris  was  basking  in  the  brilliancy  of  unclouded 
sunshine,  and  the  intense  heat  was  relieved  by  a 
vivifying  breeze,  there  had  gathered  here  a  crowd 
numbering  some  twelve  hundred  people,  among  them 
the  highest  nobility  of  France,  as  well  as  those 
connected  with  diplomatic  circles,  and  those  notable 
for  their  wealth.  Among  them  women  predominated, 
their  light  and  brilliant  costumes  making  masses  of 
gorgeous  colour,  ever  changing  as  they  moved  to  and 
fro,  recognising  and  greeting  each  other,  buying  or 
selling.  All  of  them  had  come  to  assist  a  charity, 
as  they  believed,  but  in  reality  to  suffer  or  to  witness 
death  in  its  most  appalling  shape. 

The  Duchesse  d'Alen^on,  looking  wonderfully  young 
for  her  fifty  years,  handsome,  gracious,  and  beautifully 
dressed,  had  taken  her  place  behind  her  stall  soon  after 
mid-day.  The  rapidity  with  which  she  sold  its  wares 
for  considerable  sums  that  would  bring  relief  to  the 
poor  delighted  her.  By  four  o'clock,  when  her  stall 
was  almost  bare,  she  complained  of  feeling  tired,  and 
sat  down.  At  the  same  time,  while  a  number  of 
people  were  packed  in  the  room  looking  at  the  cine- 
matograph, the  flame  of  its  lamp,  blown  sideways  by 
the  breeze  from  an  open  window,  caught  some  canvas. 
In  an  instant  a  flare  of  yellow  light  dazzled  the 
sight,  a  cry  of   fire  was  raised,  and  a  wild  rush  was 


138  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

made  to  the  narrow  entrance  blocked  by  the  turnstile. 
This  was  soon  down,  and  escape  was  made  into  the 
bazaar  where,  fleet  as  were  those  who  sought  safety, 
the  fire  had  already  sprung  ahead  of  them,  gloating 
fiend-like  in  swift,  insatiable  destruction  as  it  reached 
the  fluttering  flags,  the  flimsy  banners,  the  lath  and 
canvas  of  the  gaily  painted  booths,  the  pine-wood 
frame,  and  then  with  a  furious  roar  mounted  to  the 
tarred  cloth  which  covered  the  roof. 

In  an  instant  a  fear  of  the  most  horrible  death 
imagination  can  conceive  struck  terror  in  the  hearts 
of  each  one  in  that  struggling  crowd.  None  saw  the 
danger  more  clearly  than  the  Duchesse  d'Alen^on,  who 
with  great  presence  of  mind  jumped  on  her  stall  and 
called  out  to  them  to  act  calmly,  saying  all  would  have 
time  to  escape  if  the  doors  were  not  blocked.  She 
might  as  well  have  called  to  a  herd  of  frightened  cattle, 
for  all  battled  their  way  towards  the  exits  ;  men,  for- 
getting their  manhood,  striking  and  pushing  ;  women 
appealing,  screaming,  and  weeping  frenziedly  ;  the  vast 
human  tide  kept  back  by  the  bodies  that  had  fallen  in 
the  doorways  and  were  being  crushed  to  death  under 
the  heels  of  the  strong  and  ferocious.  Soon  she  must 
have  realised  that  escape  for  all  was  impossible,  and 
that  she  herself  must  be  among  the  victims.  A  young 
girl  who  assisted  at  the  Duchess's  stall  begged  her 
to  endeavour  to  escape,  but  calmly,  resolutely,  she 
answered  that  the  visitors  must  first  be  saved.     Again, 


t:be  t^l•aoe^^  ot  tbe  Ducbesse  b'Hlencon   139 

more  earnestly,  her  companion  urged  her  to  leave 
while  yet  there  was  time,  but  met  with  the  same  reply, 
and  then  was  parted  from  her  by  the  terrible  rush 
towards  the  doors. 

The  last  scene  witnessed  by  her  on  earth  was 
enough  to  scare  the  bravest  soul.  For  now  the  whole 
place  became  as  a  brazier,  burning  flakes  of  tar  dripping 
from  the  ceiling  on  shrieking  victims,  the  walls  hissing 
and  roaring  as  in  derision,  the  laughter  of  a  maniac 
sounding  more  mocking  still,  clouds  of  foul  suffocating 
smoke  rolling  heavily,  in  the  midst  of  which,  as  in 
some  hell,  women  were  seen  to  tear  from  their  breasts 
and  shoulders  their  flaming  dresses,  or  with  burnt 
hands  to  endeavour  to  quench  the  flames  of  their 
blazing  hair,  until  at  last  suddenly,  mercifully,  the  roof 
fell,  burying  under  its  burning  weight  the  bodies  of 
those  who  writhed  in  inexpressible  agony. 

The  terrible  fire  had  been  so  sudden  in  its  outbreak, 
so  swift  in  its  destruction,  that  on  the  arrival  of  the 
fire  brigade — delayed  through  some  trifling  accident,  as 
so  often  happens  at  such  perilous  occasions — nothing 
could  be  done  to  quench  the  triumphant  flames  or  to 
save  the  victims.  However,  almost  from  the  first  a 
hose  belonging  to  stables  in  the  vicinity  had  been  at 
work,  but  had  been  able  to  effect  little  good  against 
such  terrible  odds.  A  number  of  those  who  had 
escaped  by  the  back  entrances  still  found  themselves 
face  to  face  with  death,  as  they  were  pent  in  a  space 


I40  tlbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

between  the  burning  structure  and  the  high  walls  of 
houses  whose  fronts  looked  on  the  Cours  la  Reine. 
From  this  pen  there  seemed  no  exit.  The  stolid 
monotony  of  that  great  mass  of  wall  was  broken  by  a 
single  window  heavily  barred  and  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  the  ground.  With  charred  clothes, 
singed  hair,  overcome  by  heat  and  stricken  by  fear, 
they  looked  in  vain  for  deliverance.  But  presently, 
when  the  flames  had  almost  licked  their  faces,  the  bars 
were  forced  from  the  windows  and  a  chair  lowered  by 
ropes,  by  which  means  they  were  rescued. 

Those  who  crowded  round  the  front  of  the  building, 
distracted  by  terror  lest  those  they  loved  were  being 
burned  to  death  while  nothincj  could  be  done  to  save 
them,  witnessed  appalling  sights.  Through  a  window 
of  the  building  a  ball  of  fire  was  seen  to  issue,  which 
proved  to  be  the  body  of  a  child  flung  with  the 
strength  of  madness  by  its  mother  from  the  raging 
hell.  And  through  the  doors  escaped  after  terrible 
struggles,  in  which  self-preservation  trampled  down  all 
other  considerations,  women  half  naked,  women  wrapped 
in  flames,  women  bereft  of  reason  ;  and  men  with 
burnt  hair  and  beards,  their  faces  marked  by  blows  and 
streaming  with  blood,  the  fury  of  beasts  in  their  eyes, 
the  strength  of  beasts  in  their  limbs. 

In  a  couple  of  hours  from  the  outbreak  of  the 
fire,  while  the  sun  yet  blazed  in  the  serene  and 
cloudless  sky,  nothing  was  left  of  that  fatal  building, 


Zbc  ITraaeb^  of  tbe  Bucbcsse  &'Blcncon    mi 

where  upwards  of  two  hundred  persons  lost  their  lives, 
but  a  few  charred  posts  rising  above  the  blackened, 
smoking  ruin,  finger-signs,  as  they  seemed,  pointing 
to  the  indescribable,  shapeless  mounds  that  marked 
where  the  entrance  doors  had  been.  The  fact  that  one 
woman,  who  in  making  her  escape  had  lost  her  reason, 
and  called  herself  the  Duchesse  d'Alenc^on,  whom 
she  had  seen  perish  in  the  flames,  gave  a  momentary 
hope  to  the  Princess's  family  that  she  was  among  the 
saved.  When  this  was  taken  from  them,  a  search 
for  her  remains  was  begun  while  yet  the  scene  was 
unendurable  to  all  save  those  who  were  anxious  to 
recover  the  ashes  of  their  beloved  dead.  This  was 
headed  by  the  Due  d'Alen^on,  who  had  been  in  the 
building  when  the  fire  broke  out,  but  at  a  distance 
from  his  wife.  While  making  a  desperate  attempt 
to  reach  and  rescue  her,  he  received  a  blow  across  the 
forehead,  and  was  forced  to  the  door,  and  out  of  the 
place.  Now  going  to  the  spot  where  the  Duchess  had 
last  been  seen,  her  husband  and  son  found  a  charred 
body,  one  among  many  which  were  unrecognisable. 
Beside  this,  and  among  the  debris^  was  seen  a  glint 
of  gold,  which  on  examination  proved  to  be  a  wed- 
ding ring  bearing  the  inscription,  "  28th  Sept.,  1868  ; 
Ferdinand  d'Orleans,  Sophie  de  Baviere."  This  in 
itself  was  no  evidence  that  the  remains  beside  which 
it  was  found  were  those  of  the  Duchess,  and  it  was  not 
until  her  dentist  identified  them  by  the  gold  stopping 


142  Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

of  a    tooth    that    doubt   regarding   them    was    set   at 
rest. 

They  were  then  reverently  taken  to  her  home  in 
the  Avenue  de  Friedland,  where  for  days  and  nights 
they  were  watched  over  by  sisters  of  charity  and  the 
members  of  her  family.  Eventually,  on  May  15th, 
they  were  laid  at  rest  in  the  Royal  Chapel  of  the 
Orleans  family  at  Dreux. 


Ill 

THE   STORY    OF    ISABEL    II.    OF 

SPAIN 


143 


CHAPTER    I 

A  Memorable  Sunday  in  Madrid — Hopes  and  Fears  of  the  People — 
Prayers  for  a  Male  Heir  to  the  Crown — Fernando  VII.  and  his 
Fourth  Wife — A  Determined  Woman — Abolition  of  the  Salic  Law 
in  Spain — Resentment  of  Don  Carlos — Crowds  Gather  round  the 
Palace — Scene  in  the  Queen's  Anteroom — Awaiting  a  Momentous 
Event — The  King's  Calmness — The  Birth  of  a  Princess — The 
King's  Illness — He  Restores  the  Salic  Law — The  Queen's  Influ- 
ence over  her  Consort — The  Destruction  of  a  Deed — The  Infant 
Princess  receives  the  Oaths  of  Allegiance  from  the  Grandees — 
The  King's  Death — Two  Monarchs  are  Proclaimed — The  Horrors 
of  Civil  War — How  it  came  to  a  Close — Queen  Cristina  and 
the  Guardsman — Her  Majesty  Quits  the  Kingdom — Attempt  to 
Kidnap  the  Little  Queen — Cristina  is  Permitted  to  Return — Isabel 
begins  her  Reign  at  the  age  of  Thirteen — Lord  Malmesbury's 
Account  of  her  Prime  Minister — She  is  Charged  with  Falsehood 
in  the  Cortes — Her  Personal  Appearance — The  Question  of  her 
Marriage — The  Right  Hon.  Henry  Lytton  Bulwer — Louis  Philippe 
desires  Isabel  to  Marry  one  of  his  Sons — The  English  Govern- 
ment Objects — Lord  Palmerston's  Views  on  the  Alliance — Various 
Candidates — Don  Francisco  de  Assisi — The  Semblance  of  a  Man — 
Announcement  of  the  Royal  Marriages — The  Correspondence  of 
Queen  Isabel  with  Queen  Victoria — Louis  Philippe's  Breach  of 
Faith — The  English  Sovereign  Writes  him  a  "Tickler" — Lord 
Palmerston  Wishes  to  Prevent  the  Marriage — The  French  Princes 
Arrive  at  Madrid — The  English  Ambassador  is  Waited  on  by  a 
Polite  Criminal — Celebration  of  the  Double  Marriages — External 
Signs  of  Rejoicing. 

ON   this  bright  Sunday  morning  in  October,  the 
sky    clear    in    its    impenetrable    blue,    the    air 
bracing,  the    congregations  pouring   from   the  various 

VOL.    I.  MS  lO 


146  tlbe  IRoinance  of  IRo^alt^ 

churches  in  Madrid  wore  a  serious  air  unusual  to 
such  volatile  people.  As  they  moved  slowly  down 
narrow  streets  in  the  shadow  of  high  houses,  or 
crossed  wide  squares  basking  in  sunshine,  no  coquettish 
gesture  lifted  a  mantilla  to  let  fly  bewildering  glances, 
no  fan  telegraphed  its  commands  to  those  whose 
grave  faces  looked  graver  still  under  the  dejected 
droop  of  their  sombreroes.  For  from  every  pulpit 
and  altar  they  had  been  reminded  of  the  fateful  issues 
depending  on  the  event  hourly,  nay  momentarily, 
expected — the  birth  of  an  infant  to  their  Sovereign  ; 
and  they  had  been  asked  fervently  to  petition  Heaven 
to  send  them  a  male  child,  so  that  the  appalling 
terrors  of  civil  warfare  might  be  spared  their  nation, 
and  the  peace  of  Europe  be  maintained. 

The  monarch  to  whom  this  child  was  about  to  be 
born  was  Fernando  VII.  of  Spain,  who  had  been 
three  times  widowed  and  four  times  married,  and 
who  up  to  this  date,  October  loth,  1830,  was  without 
offspring.  The  wife  selected,  in  the  hope  of  remedy- 
ing this  want,  was  the  Princess  Cristina,  a  daughter 
of  the  King  of  Naples,  usually  known  as  Bomba. 
Young  and  handsome,  free-mannered  and  amorous, 
the  Princess  Cristina  was  willing  to  become  the 
fourth  Consort  of  a  King  who,  undermined  as  his 
constitution  was  by  dissipation,  would  presumably  soon 
make  her  his  widow.  A  woman  of  strong  character, 
some   craft,  and   boundless  ambition,  she  desired   not 


Uhc  Ston>  of  Isabel  ll.  of  Spain         m? 

only  to  become  the  wife,  but  the  mother  of  a  sovereign. 
Therefore,  before  the  entrance  into  this  world  of  strife 
of  her  child,   the   only  one  which  the  threatened  life 
of  the  King  might  permit  her  to  bear  him,  she  had 
induced   Fernando  to  abolish  the  Salic  law  which  the 
Bourbons    had    introduced    in    the    beginning    of    the 
eighteenth  century — preventing  female  monarchs  from 
reigning  in  Spain — and  to  re-establish  the  former  order 
of  succession  ;  so  that  whatever  the  sex  of  the  expected 
infant,    it    would    be  regarded    as  heir  to  the  Crown. 
This  act  had  been  bitterly  resented  as  a  personal  wrong 
by    the    King's    younger   brother,    Don    Carlos.     The 
fact  that  the  Sovereign's  previous  marriages  had  failed 
to   bring  him  an  heir  was  considered  by  Don  Carlos 
as  a  special  intervention  of  Providence  in  his  favour. 
A    fourth  marriage  was  a  reprehensible    endeavour  to 
deprive    him    of  the    monarchy,    while    the    abolition 
of   the    Salic  law  was    to  his   mind  a    flagrant  wrong 
impossible  to    endure.     Inflexible  as  he  was,    narrow, 
despotic,  and   indifferent   to   the    suff^erings    of  others 
so  long  as  his  ambitions  were  gratified,  it  was  foreseen 
that  should  the  child  about  to  be  born  prove   a  girl, 
Don    Carlos,    in    the    fight    for    what    he  regarded  as 
his    rights,  would  not  hesitate  to  drench  his  country 
with  the  blood  of  her  sons. 

It  was  therefore  no  wonder  that  anxiety,  nay  terror, 
filled  the  hearts  of  the  people,  who  in  a  dense,  eager 
crowd  surrounded  the  Royal  palace,  stern  in  its  stony 


148  tTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^altp 

massiveness,  imposing  in  its  size  and  strength,  silent, 
the  scene  of  many  events  mysterious,  tragic,  and 
dramatic,  but  none  more  important  than  that  now 
about  to  take  place.  As  they  stood  in  the  deep  shadow 
of  the  walls,  all  eyes  watching  for  the  hoisting  of  the 
flag,  all  ears  alert  for  the  booming  of  the  cannon 
that  would  announce  the  birth  of  this  child,  a  crowd 
less  in  numbers,  -but  sharing  their  inquietude  and 
suspense,  waited  in  the  high-ceilinged,  wall-painted, 
wax-floored  antechamber  of  the  Queen.  Here  were 
assembled  the  great  officers  of  the  State,  privileged 
representatives  of  the  highest  nobility,  prominent 
members  of  the  Household,  the  ambassadors  of 
European  Powers.  Instinctively,  and  almost  uncon- 
sciously, the  Spanish  grandees  present  had  drawn 
themselves  into  separate  groups,  composed  of  those 
ready  to  uphold  Don  Carlos,  and  those  who  were 
willing  to  accept  as  their  future  Sovereign  the  child 
about  to  be  born,  irrespective  of  its  sex. 

Somewhat  apart  from  them,  looking  worn  from 
illness  and  pale  from  apprehension,  stood  the  King, 
whose  narrow  face  with  its  long  nose,  dull  eyes,  and 
thin,  cruel  lips,  showed  an  unflinching  calmness  that 
gave  no  hint  of  the  torturing  uncertainty  that  tore 
him.  Now  and  then  bestrode  backwards  and  forwards, 
speaking  a  word  or  acknowledging  the  profound  bows 
of  those  on  whom  his  furtive  glances  rested  ;  now 
and    then    he    paused    at    one    of  the    high    windows, 


Tl\K  Storp  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         149 

from  which  he  looked  at  the  capital  with  its  irregular 
rows  of  yellow  roofs,  its  church  towers  and  brown 
belfries  cutting  the  deep  blue  ;  or  gazed  downwards 
to  where  watchful  sentries  guarded  the  palace,  and 
murderous  black-mouthed  cannon  stood  ready  for  foul 
work.  The  nervous  strain  felt  by  all  in  the  room 
made  conversation  impossible  ;  the  whispers  that  occa- 
sionally cut  the  heavy  silence  seemed  intrusive  ;  and 
many  started  when  the  great  clock  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  palace  struck  two  with  something  of 
the  solemnity  of  a  funeral  toll  in  its  sound.  Meantime 
they  listened  with  breathless  attention  to  footsteps 
occasionally  heard,  to  rapidly  spoken  phrases,  to  moans 
of  insupportable  anguish,  behind  the  closed  doors  of 
her  Majesty's  room. 

Suddenly  and  softly  these  were  flung  backwards  to 
show  a  resplendently  dressed  and  buxom  midwife 
standing  on  the  threshold,  a  figure  that  represented 
Fate,  for  on  her  words  would  hang  the  weal  or  woe 
of  a  nation.  In  an  instant  the  King  stepped  forward, 
then  breathless,  his  pallor  deepening,  he  paused,  unable 
to  speak.  In  another  instant  the  woman  had  announced 
to  him  the  birth  of  a  Princess.  A  low,  scarce 
expressed  but  irrepressible  murmur  of  triumph  rose 
from  his  brother's  adherents  as  his  Majesty  passed 
into  the  Queen's  room,  to  return  presently  bearing 
on  a  golden  platter  the  new-born  wailing  morsel  of 
humanity  which  he  presented  to  all  assembled. 


ISO  XTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

Within  a  few  days  of  the  birth  of  this  Princess, 
who  was  baptised  Isabel,  a  proclamation  was  secretly 
issued  by  the  supporters  of  Don  Carlos  which  said  : 
"  Royalists,  Divine  Providence  has  just  manifested 
to  the  Spanish  nation,  by  the  birth  of  an  Infanta  to 
our  present  ruler,  that  the  august  personage  to  whom 
the  sovereignty  of  Spain  in  right  and  justice  belongs 
ought  to  be  at  once  acknowledged.  Our  beloved 
Carlos  should  be  proclaimed  forthwith  as  the  Sove- 
reign of  our  country,  as  he  is  already  of  the  hearts 
and  hands  of  every  well-intentioned  Spaniard  ;  and 
Fernando  should  be  made  to  abdicate  in  favour  of 
the  person  who  alone  is  worthy  to  be  our  King.  Let 
us  unite  then,  and  with  one  voice  show  that  we  are 
no  longer  to  be  made  the  catspaw  of  a  vile  Court, 
whose  only  object  is  to  plunge  our  country  into 
rum. 

It  was  not  alone  because  of  internal  strife  that  it 
seemed  doubtful  if  this  Princess  would  ever  sit  upon 
the  throne  ;  for  within  twelve  months  of  her  birth 
it  was  evident  that  her  mother  was  again  about  to 
give  birth  to  a  child,  and  once  more  hopes  were 
entertained  and  prayers  offered  that  a  son  might  be 
given  her.  Both  were  vain,  for  the  infant  born  in 
January,  1832,  was  a  girl,  baptised  Fernanda.  In 
the  month  of  July  in  this  year  a  sudden  illness  seized 
upon  the  King,  who  it  was  believed  was  dying.  It 
may  have  been  that  while  hanging  between  two  worlds 


XTbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  ll.  ot  Spafn         151 

in  a  room  in  the  palace  of  La  Granja,  not  far  removed 
from  the  tomb  whose  sombreness  and  silence  his 
apartment  foreshadowed,  that  pictures  of  flaming 
cities,  devastated  plains,  carnage,  desolated  homes, 
bloodshed,  cruelties,  and  all  the  appalling,  indescribable 
miseries  which  civil  warfare  brings  rose  in  lurid 
colours  before  him,  terrifying  his  shrinking  soul.  At 
all  events,  in  these  hours,  which  were  thought  to  be 
his  last,  he  signed  a  document  that  restored  the  Salic 
law,  and  left  his  brother  Don  Carlos  once  more  heir 
to  the  Crown  of  Spain. 

When  eventually  Fernando,  weak  and  spectral, 
struggled  from  out  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
the  affrighted  visions  of  war's  calamities  began  to  fade 
from  his  sight,  and  the  representations  of  his  young 
Consort  to  have  effect  upon  him.  Energetic,  cunning, 
and  resolute,  she  who  during  his  illness  had  acted  as 
Regent,  was  determined  that  Don  Carlos  should  once 
again  be  set  aside  in  favour  of  her  own  daughter. 

Throughout  his  reign  Fernando,  malignant  and 
cowardly,  had  shown  himself  a  bitter  enemy  towards 
freedom  and  enlightenment,  and  had  yielded  to  liberal 
measures  only  under  fear  of  revolution.  But  though 
little  progress  could  be  gained  under  one  who  closed  the 
universities  and  would  have  abolished  the  Constitution, 
there  was  still  less  hope  for  advancement  under  the 
reign  of  his  brother  Don  Carlos,  a  narrow-minded 
bigot    in    religion,    an     absolutist    in     politics,    whose 


152  TL\)C  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

ideas  regarding  the  Sovereign's  dominion  over  his 
people  were  those  of  the  dark  ages.  Aware  of  the 
dread  with  which  his  assumption  of  the  Crown  was 
regarded  by  the  Liberals  throughout  Spain,  the  Queen 
Consort  sent  for  one  of  their  ablest,  most  enlightened 
leaders,  Martinez  de  la  Rosa,  who  had  already  suffered 
exile  for  his  adherence  to  his  principles. 

According  to  the  biography  of  Isabel  II.  by  Jann 
Winn,  to  which,  with  M.  Morel's  Isahi  IL,  Reine 
d'Espagne,  the  writer  is  indebted  for  many  details, 
an  agreement  was  soon  come  to  between  the  patriot 
and  the  Queen,  in  which  she  promised  as  Regent 
to  grant  liberal  measures,  to  show  mercy,  and  to 
sanction  such  changes  in  the  Constitution  as  his 
party  might  desire,  in  return  for  their  support  to  her 
daughter's  claim  to  the  Throne.  Cristina  kept  her 
word  so  long  as  her  husband's  illness  prevented  him 
from  interfering  ;  so  that  the  universities  were  reopened, 
political  prisoners  pardoned,  industries  encouraged,  and 
the  Cortes  or  Parliament  summoned.  Finally,  the  deed 
in  favour  of  Don  Carlos,  which  Fernando  had  signed 
on  what  he  believed  to  be  his  deathbed,  was  destroyed. 
In  another,  written  by  his  own  hand,  and  dated 
December  31st,  1832,  he  said  that  his  Royal  mind 
having  been  taken  by  surprise  in  moments  of  agony, 
to  which  he  had  been  brought  by  a  serious  malady 
from  which  Divine  mercy  had  saved  him  in  a  pro- 
digious   manner,     he    had    signed    a   decree    repealing 


OUEEN    ISABEL    II.    OF    SPAIN. 


[Facing  page  152. 


Xrbc  Stov\?  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         153 

the  Pragmatic  Sanction  ;  but  as  this  had  been  obtained 
from  him  by  surprise  and  misrepresentations,  he  now 
declared  it  null  and  void.      It  was  in  accordance  with 
this  change  that  on   June   2oth   following  (1833)   the 
great  officers  of  State,  the  grandees  of  Spain,  and  the 
members  of  the  Cortes,  were  summoned  to  the  church 
of  San  Geronimo  to  take  a  solemn  oath  of  allegiance  to 
the  future  Sovereign  of  Spain,  the  baby  Princess  Isabel. 
The  blaze  of  splendour — innumerable  lights  upon  the 
altars,  vestments  of  gold  cloth,  the  gorgeous  mediaeval 
costumes  of  Court  officials,  the  scarlet   of  uniforms,  the 
purple    and  crimson    of  Royalty — filling  the  grey  old 
church,  did  not  exorcise  the  sense   of  fear  that  crept 
into    many    hearts    during    that    imposing    ceremony. 
One  face  was  sought  for  and   missed  by   all — that  of 
the    dark,    gloomy,    and    sinister    Don    Carlos.     Not 
only  was  he  absent,  but  a  protest  of  his  rights  to  the 
Crown  was  issued  by  him  ;   as  a  consequence  of  which 
he    and   many    of   his    followers    were    forbidden    the 
kingdom. 

The  next  step  in  the  eventful  drama  of  Isabel's 
life  was  the  sudden  death  of  her  father  from  apoplexy 
on  September  29th  in  this  year  (1833).  Almost 
simultaneously  Isabel  was  proclaimed  Queen,  and  Don 
Carlos  King  of  Spain  under  the  title  of  Charles  V. 
From  this  time  for  almost  seven  terrible  years  civil 
war  was  waged  in  Spain,  the  country  was  soaked  in 
blood,  innumerable   lives  were  sacrificed,  and  acts   of 


1 54  ^f3c  IRomance  of  IRo^alts 

sickening  cruelty,  ghastliness,  and  barbarity  were 
perpetrated  by  a  Christian  people  in  the  hope  of 
placing  on  the  throne  a  person  who  could  make  no 
amends  to  the  country  for  such  loss,  and  who  was 
almost  certain  to  prove,  no  matter  who  was  victor, 
a  curse  to  the  nation. 

Don  Carlos's  claim  was  supported  by  the  Church, 
whose  enormous  properties  had  been  confiscated  ;  by 
the  nobility,  who  clung  to  feudalism  ;  and  by  the 
peasantry  of  the  north,  who  feared  that  certain  ancient 
privileges  of  theirs  would  be  disregarded  under  a 
new  order  of  things.  Isabel's  claim  was  upheld  by 
the  greater  portion  of  the  army,  by  the  Cortes,  and 
by  the  great  body  of  the  middle  class.  The  Carlist 
army  was  led  by  General  Marato,  whose  skill  and 
courage  made  him  the  idol  of  his  followers  ;  while 
the  Cristina  troops  were  under  the  command  of 
General  Baldomero  Espartero,  an  able  soldier,  rarer 
still  in  Spain,  an  honest  man,  one  whose  exploits 
raised  him  to  heroic  heights  in  the  eyes  of  Isabel's 
adherents,  and  brought  him  many  honours  from  the 
Regent.  Success  seemed  at  first  to  favour  the 
Carlists,  but  later  they  met  with  severe  reverses. 
Towards  the  end  of  seven  years  of  bloodshed,  Marato 
began  to  realise  that  his  endeavours  were  vain,  and 
that  his  men  were  not  only  worn  out  by  prolonged 
hardships,  but  had  lost  faith  in  Don  Carlos,  whose 
general    inability,  apathy,    and    timidity    had    damped 


XTbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  ll.  ot  Spain         155 

such  enthusiasm  as  they  had  felt  for  him  at  a  time 
when   he  was  personally  unknown  to   them. 

Marato,  therefore,  turned  his  thoughts  towards 
compromise,  and  made  eiForts  to  gain  an  honourable 
peace.  But  arbitration  is  slow  work  in  Spain  where 
all  things  unconcerned  with  the  heart  are  left  till 
to-morrow,  and  when  at  the  end  of  two  years  it 
showed  no  result,  this  brusque  soldier  became  im- 
patient. Thereon,  according  to  Jann  Winn,  Marato 
suddenly  appeared  one  morning  in  the  enemies'  camp, 
and  asked  to  be  taken  to  General  Espartero.  Brought 
face  to  face  with  him,  Marato  coolly  proposed  that 
they  should  throw  dice  for  victory.  His  suggestion 
was  accepted  in  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  made  ;  the 
dice  were  rattled  and  thrown,  Espartero  won,  and  a 
cruel  war  was  at  an  end.  On  the  following  day,  the 
last  in  August,  1839,  when  the  two  opposing  armies 
were  drawn  up  a  little  distance  from  each  other,  and 
apparently  ready  for  battle,  Marato  rode  forward, 
and  with  every  sign  of  emotion,  declared  he  could 
no  longer  bear  to  see  the  sons  of  this  noble  land 
slaughter  each  other,  or  endure  to  take  part  in  a  war 
that  brought  such  havoc  and  misery  to  all.  At  the 
close  of  a  brief  stirring  speech  he  flung  himself  into 
the  arms  of  Espartero,  who  embraced  him  warmly. 

No  sooner  did  their  respective  troops  witness  this 
scene  than  they  rushed  wildly  towards  each  other, 
no  longer  with   intent   to   kill,   but    in    the    desire  to 


156  XTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

embrace,  an  act  that  was  the  sign  of  mutual  forgiveness 
for  the  horrors  and  wrongs  each  had  suffered  at  the 
hands  of  the  other  during  this  appalling  war.  Before 
the  day  ended  they  marched  towards  Madrid  cheering, 
shouting,  singing,  giving  wild  expression  to  their  joy 
after  a  period  of  intolerable  hardship.  On  their 
entry  into  the  capital  they  were  received  with  a  fury 
of  enthusiasm  such  as  never  greeted  victors.  This 
desertion  of  his  cause  by  the  greater  portion  of  his 
army  did  not  prevent  Don  Carlos  from  endeavouring 
to  continue  the  war ;  but  his  manifestoes  and  pro- 
clamations fell  upon  weary  ears,  and  his  petty  outbursts 
of  warfare  were  quickly  extinguished.  Having  passed 
six  years  under  police  supervision  at  Bourges,  he 
resigned  his  claim  to  the  throne  in  fwour  of  his 
eldest  son,  the  Comte  de  Montemolin,  in  1845,  and 
was  allowed  to  leave  Spain. 

During  the  seven  years'  civil  war,  many  stirring 
events  had  taken  place  in  Madrid.  Soon  after  the 
King  had  been  laid  to  rest  in  the  silence  and  peace  of 
the  Escorial,  his  widow  began  to  show  unmistakable 
signs  of  appreciation  for  a  splendidly  built  young 
private  in  the  Guards  named  Fernando  Munoz. 
Coming  from  the  lower  ranks  of  the  people,  without 
abilities  or  ambition,  he  owed  the  Queen's  favour 
solely  to  his  handsome  presence.  Within  three  months 
of  her  husband's  death — on  December  28th,  1833 — 
the  Church   had   blessed  her  union   with  the  man   of 


trbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  IL  of  Spain         157 

her  choice,  but  this  was  not  only  kept  a  secret,  but 
at  a  time  when  she  had  borne  Munoz  children  was 
absolutely  denied  by  her,  as  her  acknowledgment  of 
a  second  marriage  would  have  prevented  her  from 
acting  as  Regent  and  securing  the  splendid  salary 
attached  to  that  office.  As  she  preferred  power  and 
gain  to  her  good  name,  she  was  obliged  to  suffer  the 
consequences  ;  for  as  the  young  Guardsman  was  con- 
tinually beside  her,  not  only  at  Court,  but  when  she 
went  abroad,  and  as  her  denial  that  any  legal  tie  bound 
them  was  generally  accepted,  the  worst  construction 
was  placed  upon  their  relationship  by  the  people  and 
the  press. 

This  was  one  cause  of  her  loss  of  popularity. 
There  were  others  at  work  to  bring  about  her  down- 
fall. Almost  from  the  beginning  of  her  Regency 
the  country  had  been  divided  into  three  political 
factions.  Rapid  changes  of  Government  had  taken 
place  ;  intrigue  had  succeeded  intrigue  ;  bribery  was 
rampant  ;  men  held  power  to  enrich  themselves  by 
gigantic  and  scarcely  concealed  frauds  ;  and  revolution 
was  not  infrequent.  One  of  these,  which  took  place 
soon  after  the  close  of  the  war,  was  caused  by 
Cristina's  favour  of  the  Conservatives,  and  of  her 
signing  at  their  dictation  a  Bill  that  was  believed  to 
infringe  certain  constitutional  rights.  Strongly  opposed 
by  Espartero,  now  Due  de  Vittoria,  and  the  most 
popular  man  in  Spain,  she  was   obliged   to   quit    the 


158  ^be  IRomance  of  IRo^altg 

kingdom  in  October,  1840,  and  went  to  France.  Her 
feelings  towards  Espartero  were  expressed  with 
feminine  bitterness  in  the  last  words  she  addressed 
to  him.  "  Adieu,  Espartero,"  she  said.  "  I  have 
loaded  you  with  honours,  I  have  raised  you  to  the 
highest  rank,  I  have  made  you  everything  but  a 
gentleman  ;  that  you  must  be  born,  not  made."  Soon 
after  her  departure,  Espartero  published  the  official 
proof  of  her  marriage,  which  prevented  her  from  ever 
resuming  the  Regency ;  and  at  the  same  time  he 
exposed  the  methods  by  which  she  had  greatly  enriched 
herself  at  the  public  expense. 

Absence  from  Spain  did  not  prevent  Cristina 
from  plotting  against  her  successor  in  the  Regency, 
Espartero.  One  result  of  such  intrigues  was  an  in- 
surrection whose  object  it  was  to  take  the  Princesses 
by  force  from  the  Regent's  power.  For  this  pur- 
pose the  Royal  palace  was  surrounded  one  night — 
October  7  th,  1841 — at  a  time  when,  silent  and 
wrapped  in  darkness,  it  was  supposed  its  inmates 
slept.  Bribery  or  persuasion  enabled  the  insurgents, 
under  the  leadership  of  Don  Diego  Leon  and  General 
Concha,  to  enter  the  palace  stealthily.  Gaining  the 
vast  hall,  dim  and  shadowy,  a  rush  was  made  towards 
where  a  gleam  of  white  indicated  its  magnificent  marble 
staircase.  Suddenly,  unexpectedly,  they  were  met  by 
the  palace  halberdiers.  A  wild  shout,  the  quick 
exchange  of  musket    shot  waking   them    from  sleep. 


xrbe  Stoi*^  ot  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         159 

brought  a  crowd  of  officials  and  servants,  carrying 
lights,  to  the  balustraded  lobbies,  looking  from  which 
they  saw  fierce  blows  exchanged,  the  swift  flash  of 
merciless  steel,  blood  flowing  over  the  polished  steps, 
down  which  bodies  rolled  and  were  trampled  upon 
by  those  sternly  fighting  their  upward  way.  The 
little  Queen  and  her  sister,  cowering  behind  locked 
doors,  listened  with  terror,  said  their  prayers,  and 
called  for  a  confessor,  believing  their  last  hour  was 
at  hand.  Eventually,  overcome  by  the  valour  of  the 
halberdiers,  fighting  at  immense  odds,  the  insurgent 
leaders  fled,  their  example  being  followed  by  their 
men.  Don  Diego  Leon  was  pursued,  taken  prisoner 
and  shot,  on  the  15th  of  the  month,  outside  the  Toledo 
Gate,  the  life  of  this  strong  and  gallant  man — one 
of  a  host  of  such  victims — being  sacrificed  to  the 
ambitions  of  those  who  next  day  would  not  bear 
him  in  memory. 

Espartero,  a  rough  and  honest  soldier,  was  no  match 
for  a  wily  and  unscrupulous  woman  like  Cristina,  who 
by  bribery  and  malice  contrived  within  two  years  to 
undermine  his  power  and  to  ensure  his  downfall. 
Ostensibly  this  was  brought  about  by  a  political  and 
military  pronunciamento  issued  by  Generals  O'Donnell 
and  Narvaez,  who  formed  a  Government  under  the 
presidency  of  Don  Joaquim  Maria  Lopez.  The  in- 
dividual who  at  this  juncture  may  be  said  to  have 
had  the    unfortunate  country  at  his    mercy,  and  who 


i6o  Ubc  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt]^ 

subsequently  gained  a  strong  influence  over  its  young 
Sovereign,  was  General  Narvaez,  who  is  described  by 
Lord  Malmesbury  as  "  an  ugly  fat  little  man  with 
a  vile  expression  of  countenance."  At  once  a  soldier 
and  a  politician,  he  was  possessed  of  immense  energy, 
boundless  ambition,  and  a  determination  to  enrich 
himself.  In  both  roles  he  was  despotic  and  cruel. 
As  an  illustration  of  his  character,  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  when  on  his  death-bed  his  confessor  asked  him 
if  he  freely  forgave  all  his  enemies,  he  gravely  replied 
that  he  did,  as  having  shot  them  all  he  had  none 
left. 

One  of  his  first  acts  was  to  permit  Cristina  to  return 
to  Spain,  on  condition  that  she  did  not  interfere  in 
politics.  Readily  accepting  a  stipulation  she  never 
meant  to  keep,  she  entered  Madrid  attended  by  all 
the  trappings  of  Royalty,  and  was  enthusiastically 
received  by  the  fickle  mob,  who  were  overcome  by 
emotion  at  seeing  her  tenderly  embrace  the  Princesses 
from  whom  it  was  inferred  she  had  been  cruelly  torn. 
Her  husband  and  his  three  children  took  no  part  in 
this  victorious  procession,  though  they  were  to  benefit 
richly  by  her  return.  Once  reinstated,  she  set  herself 
by  flattery  and  indulgence  to  gain  a  strong  influence 
over  her  eldest  daughter.  And  as  the  idea  of  another 
holding  the  Regency  which  she  could  no  longer  fill 
was  wholly  repugnant  to  her,  the  Government  was 
induced   to   declare  Isabel  of  age  on  November  8th, 


Zbc  Stor^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         i6i 

1843,  she  being  then  thirteen  years  and  one 
month  old. 

The  fact  that  Isabel  had  come  to  the  throne  made 
little  difference  to  the  country,  which  continued  to 
suffer  from  revolutionary  outbursts,  Carlist  uprisings, 
and  rapid  changes  of  Government.  The  reign  as 
Prime  Minister  of  Joaquim  Lopez  had  been  brief, 
and  his  place  was  taken  by  Don  Salustiano  de  Olozaga, 
who  was  not  a  favourite  with  her  Majesty.  A 
glimpse  at  the  astonishing  position  held  by  this  girl- 
Queen  towards  her  Prime  Minister  is  given  on  the 
authority  of  Lord  Malmesbury  in  his  Memoirs  of  an 
Ex-Minister. 

Writing  on  December  1 2th,  1 843,  he  says  :  "  The 
Government  at  Madrid  has  again  been  thrown  into 
confusion,  the  young  Queen  having  made  a  declara- 
tion that  her  Prime  Minister,  Olozaga,  had  forced 
her  to  sign  a  proclamation  for  the  dissolution  of  the 
Cortes.  She  said  that  he  first  attempted  to  persuade 
her,  but  when  she  refused,  saying  that  she  would 
not  do  such  an  ungracious  thing  as  dissolve  an 
assembly  that  had  just  paid  her  the  compliment  of 
declaring  her  of  age,  he  used  menaces  and  very  violent 
language  to  terrify  her  into  compliance.  She  then 
got  up  and  tried  to  escape  by  a  private  door  that  led 
into  her  apartment,  but  he  anticipated  her,  locked 
the  door,  forced  her  back  to  her  seat,  and  made  her 
sign  the  paper  by  force,  holding  her  hand  the  whole 

VOL.  r.  II 


1 62  Zibe  IRoinance  of  IRogalt^ 

time.  After  his  departure  she  made  this  statement, 
which  was  communicated  to  the  Cortes.  Olozaga 
denies  every  word,  says  it  is  a  falsehood  of  the 
Queen's,  and  that  there  is  not  the  sHghtest  founda- 
tion for  any  part  of  the  story  ;  and  adds  with  great 
appearance  of  probabihty,  that  had  he  been  guilty  of 
such  conduct  it  is  not  likely  he  could  have  quietly 
walked  out  of  the  palace  through  an  anteroom  filled 
with  attendants  and  guards,  who  would  have  come 
to  the  Queen's  assistance  had  she  called  out,  and 
would  have  arrested  him  at  the  least  word  or  sign 
from  her."  The  subject  was  warmly  debated  in  the 
Parliament,  when  Olozaga  declared  the  Sovereign  had 
not  spoken  the  truth  ;  but  he  was  overwhelmed  by 
those  in  her  favour,  was  deprived  of  his  Premiership, 
of  his  seat  in  the  Cortes,  and  obliged  to  quit  Spain. 
Before  she  reached  her  sixteenth  year,  Isabel's 
marriage  became  a  subject  of  intense  interest  to  her 
subjects,  and  of  grave  concern  to  European  rulers. 
Personally  she  was  tall  for  her  age,  well  made, 
plump  and  vigorous  ;  her  face  round,  inclined  to 
stoutness,  with  an  expression  of  good  nature  and 
indolence,  the  eyes  dark  and  flashing,  the  lips  full  and 
red.  For  a  Spaniard  her  voice  was  sweet,  and  when 
called  on  to  take  part  in  the  ceremonies  she  hated, 
she  could  assume  a  dignity  that  impressed  ;  but  her 
usual  manner  was  hoydenish,  impulsive,  and  full  of 
fun,    and    she    loved    pleasure    almost    as    much    as 


Uhc  Stor^  ot  Isabel  ll.  of  Spain         163 

she  hated  restraint.  Altogether  this  child  was  wholly 
unfitted  for  the  incredibly  difficult  position  in  which 
fate  had  placed  her. 

That  she  might  wed  a  wise  and  prudent  husband, 
who  would  help  her  to  govern  her  distraught  country, 
was  the  prayer  and  hope  of  Spain.     That   he  should 
be    one    whose    position    as    King    Consort    did     not 
overturn    the    balance    of    power    among    the    nations 
became    the    business    of  Europe.      The    selection   of 
a    suitable    husband    for    the    Queen    was    therefore 
fraught    with    difficulties.      The    Right    Hon.    Henry 
Lytton    Bulwer,    afterwards    Lord    Bailing,    who    was 
at    this    time    English    Ambassador    to    the    Court    of 
Madrid,  and   who    played    an    important    part    in    the 
negotiations  for   the   Royal    marriage,   has   in   his  Life 
of  Viscount  Palmerston  told  Its  story  at  some  length 
and    In    a    manner    that  lends   romance   to  diplomacy. 
Henry    Lytton    Bulwer,    an    elder    brother     of    the 
distinguished    novelist,    had    begun    life    as    a    cornet 
in    the    2nd    Life     Guards,    but    before    the    age    of 
thirty    had    left    the    army    for   diplomacy.      Having 
served   as  attache  at  Berlin,  Vienna,  and  The  Hague, 
he  became  Charge  d'Affaires  at  Brussels  and  at  Paris, 
and  subsequently  Ambassador  to  Spain.     His  experience 
at  various  Courts,    his   high-bred  bearing,  as    well  as 
his   Insight  into   character,  fitted  him  for  the  delicate 
part  he  was  to  play. 

From    the    first     Louis     Philippe,    then     King     of 


i64  tlbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

France,  desired  that  one  of  his  numerous  sons  should 
become  King  Consort  of  Spain  ;  a  wish  that  was 
seconded  by  his  niece,  Queen  Cristina,  who  was 
anxious  for  the  support  of  France.  But  as  his 
Majesty  knew  that  an  aUiance  which  would  give 
his  kingdom  such  strength  would  not  be  permitted 
by  England,  he  declined  to  seek  it,  and  declared  he 
would  be  satisfied  with  any  union  Isabel  might  make 
with  a  member  of  the  Bourbon  family.  To  this  the 
English  Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs,  Lord  Aberdeen, 
replied  that  though  he  did  not  recognise  the  right 
of  France  to  confine  the  choice  of  the  Queen  ot 
Spain  to  any  particular  family,  the  English  Government 
would  feel  satisfied  if  her  Majesty  should  select  for 
her  husband  a  Bourbon  prince  who  was  not  heir 
to  the  French  throne.  Louis  Philippe's  next  move 
was  to  suggest  that  his  fifth  and  youngest  son,  the 
Due  de  Montpensier,  should  marry  Isabel's  sister, 
the  Infanta  Fernanda.  Should  Isabel  die  childless, 
the  French  prince  would  then  become  King  Consort, 
a  possibility  distasteful  to  England. 

In  explaining  to  the  English  Ambassador  at  Madrid 
the  reasons  for  opposing  this  alliance.  Lord  Palmerston, 
who  by  this  time  had  succeeded  Lord  Aberbeen,  in 
a  letter  dated  August  3rd,  1 846,  said  :  *'  The  great 
object  to  be  accomplished  in  the  interest  of  England 
is  to  prevent  a  French  prince  from  marrying  either 
the    Queen   or  the   Infanta.     If   Montpensier    marries 


Ubc  Stor^  of  56al)Cl  II.  of  Spain         165 

the  Inflmta,  it  will  be  as  bad  as  if  he  married  the 
Queen  ;  and  will  give  France  equal  if  not  greater 
power  over  the  policy  of  Spain.  It  was  bad  enough 
for  England  in  the  last  century  to  find  herself 
engaged  in  differences  and  wars  with  Spain,  not 
upon  Spanish,  but  upon  French  grounds  ;  but  now 
that  France  occupies  upwards  of  five  hundred  miles 
of  the  opposite  coast  of  Africa,  and  is  creating  a  large 
naval  station  at  Algiers,  the  inconvenience  would 
become  still  greater.  Such  a  marriage  would  destroy 
all  confidence,  and  put  an  end  to  all  good  under- 
standing on  our  part  both  with  France  and  Spain, 
and  we  should  be  driven  to  seek  a  counterpoise  in 
closer  and  more  intimate  alliances  with  other  Powers, 
whose  feelings  and  policy  may  not  be  as  congenial 
with  those  of  France  and  Spain  as  our  own  up  to  this 
moment  are.  In  short  the  marriage  of  a  French 
prince  with  either  of  the  daughters  of  Cristina  would 
be  a  plain  and  public  declaration  to  Europe  that  both 
Spain  and  France  are  looking  forward  to  a  combined 
war  against  England  ;  and  we  should  have  to  govern 
our  conduct  and  measures  accordingly." 

At  this  point  Cristina,  anxious  to  benefit  her  family, 
brought  forward  her  brother,  Comte  Trapani,  a 
Bourbon  prince  ;  but  the  opposition  of  Austria,  as 
well  as  the  ineradicable  hatred  of  the  Spanish  people 
of  Neapolitans,  made  her  scheme  impossible.  For  a 
time  it  was   hoped  by  all  lovers  of  peace   that   Isabel 


i66  XLbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

might  marry  her  cousin,  the  Comte  de  Montemolin, 
eldest  son  of  Don  Carlos,  and  now  claimant  to  the 
Spanish  throne  ;  but  to  act  as  King  Consort  instead 
of  ruling  as  supreme  Sovereign  was  an  abandonment 
of  his  rights  to  which  he  would  not  deign  to  submit. 
The  English  Government  was  desirous  that  the 
Princesses  should  respectively  marry  Prince  Leopold 
of  Saxe-Coburg,  brother  of  the  King  of  Portugal  and 
cousin  of  Prince  Albert  ;  and  Don  Enrique,  the  second 
son  of  Don  Francisco  de  Paula,  Due  de  Cadiz, 
youngest  brother  of  the  lat-e  King  Fernando. 

The  marriage  of  Prince  Leopold  of  Saxe-Coburg 
into  the  Royal  Family  of  Spain  was  opposed  by  Louis 
Philippe  ;  and  the  English  Government,  willing  to 
remain  on  amicable  terms  with  his  Majesty,  did  not 
insist  on  the  fulfilment  of  its  wishes,  which  after  all 
were  not  urgent.  When  early  in  the  autumn  of  1845, 
Queen  Victoria  and  Prince  Albert  visited  the  French 
King  at  the  Chateau  d'Eu,  a  friendly  agreement  was 
arrived  at  between  the  Royal  personages  that  Prince 
Leopold  should  not  marry  either  of  the  Spanish 
Princesses  ;  and  that  the  Due  de  Montpensier  might 
marry  the  Infanta  Fernanda,  but  not  until  Isabel  had 
given  birth  to  children,  and  her  sister  was  therefore  no 
longer  in  succession  to  the  throne.  The  suitor  least 
desirable  in  Cristina's  eyes  for  either  of  her  daughters 
was  Don  Enrique.  Headstrong,  masterful,  free- 
spoken,  quick    empered,  and  unreliable,  he  was  at  the 


TLbc  Stor^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         167 

same  time  frank,  courageous,  and  manly.  During 
Cristina's  Regency  he  had  taken  an  open  and  active 
part  in  a  faction  opposed  to  her  ;  so  that  a  bitter  feud 
existed  between  them.  Though  he  was  wilHng  to 
forget  this  in  consideration  of  becoming  King  Consort, 
and  though  Isabel  liked  him  best  of  all  the  candidates 
for  her  hand,  the  Queen-mother  feared  that  if  he  were 
placed  on  or  near  the  throne  he  would  favour  her 
enemies,  oppose  her  interests,  and  prevent  her  from 
accumulating  the  fortune  she  was  bent  on  gaining 
for  the  three  unprovided-for  children  of  her  second 
husband. 

Notwithstanding  her  opposition,  Don  Enrique  had 
hopes  of  becoming  the  husband  of  Isabel,  or  of  her 
sister  the  Infanta,  especially  as  he  was  aware  that  his 
cause  was  being  championed  by  England.  In  writing  to 
the  English  Ambassador  at  Madrid  on  August  i6th, 
1846,  Lord  Palmerston  says  :  "  We  think  it  would  be 
far  the  best  for  Spain  on  the  whole,  and  in  the  long 
run,  that  Isabel  should  have  a  Spanish  husband  ;  and 
that  husband,  if  he  is  to  be  a  Spanish  prince,  can  be 
none  other  than  Don  Enrique  ;  and  I  should  say  that 
it  is  for  Isabel's  interest  to  have  him  for  a  husband 
rather  than  for  a  sort  of  rival,  or  at  least  as  head  of 
the  opposition.  And  if  the  marriage  was  effected  I 
do  not  see  why  Cristina  should  fear  anything  as  to  her 
future  condition,  provided  proper  arrangements  were 
made  and  a  suitable  understanding  come  to  about  her 


1 68  ^be  iRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

future  prospects  and  past  accounts.  As  to  Coburg, 
you  say  that  all  you  have  said  respecting  him  depends 
upon  his  personal  qualities  ;  that  if  he  is  an  ordinary 
man  he  will  be  swamped  ;  but  if  he  is  a  man  of  energy 
and  ability  he  will  become  a  great  prince."  Lord 
Palmerston  was  not  led  to  believe,  from  his  knowledge 
of  the  Prince,  that  his  talents  were  remarkable  ;  but  he 
hoped  he  might  turn  out,  "  an  ordinary  man  with  not 
much  less  sense  and  judgment  than  the  generality  of 
mankind." 

The  English  Government  therefore  urgently  recom- 
mended the  Spanish  Government  to  marry  Isabel  to 
Don  Enrique,  and  her  sister  the  Infanta  to  Prince 
Leopold.  "  And  that  is  the  arrangement  we  wish  you 
to  try  for,"  says  Lord  Palmerston.  But  above  all 
things,  our  Ambassador  was  instructed  to  prevent,  if 
possible,  the  marriage  of  the  Due  de  Montpensier 
with  either  of  the  Spanish  Princesses.  The  Prime 
Minister  was  aware  that  England's  stern  objection  to 
this  union  might  seem  uncourteous  and  displeasing  ; 
but  he  also  knew  that  the  friendships  of  States  and 
Governments  must  be  founded  on  national  interests, 
and  not  upon  personal  likings.  France,  he  said,  valued 
the  friendship  of  England,  and  England  the  friend- 
ship of  France,  not  merely  from  personal  sentiment, 
but  from  the  conviction  of  political  utility.  Finally, 
Henry  Lytton  Bulwer  was  instructed  to  impress  on 
Cristina  and  on  Isturitz,  then  Spanish  Prime  Minister, 


3J' 


v^i^^' 


f 


THE    INFANTA    FERNANDA,    DUCHESSE    DE    MONTPENSIER. 

[Faring  page  it 


I 


TL\)C  Storg  of  Isabel  IL  of  Spain         169 

the  fact  previously  mentioned,  that  the  marriage  of 
the  Due  de  Montpensier  with  Isabel  or  the  Infanta 
would  be  considered  "  as  a  measure  of  contingent 
hostility  to  England  on  the  part  both  of  Spain  and 
of  France,  and  that  we  should  be  obliged  to  shape 
our  future  course  with  regard  to  both  those  Powers 
accordingly." 

Though  unwilling  to  disregard  the  suggestions  and 
wishes  of  England  concerning  Don  Enrique,  Cristina 
was  still  more  unwilling  to  accept  him  for  a  son-in-law. 
In  her  dilemma  she  turned  her  thoughts  to  his  elder 
brother,  Don  Francisco  de  Assisi,  in  the  hope  that 
he  might  be  an  acceptable  substitute.  Born  in  May, 
1822,  he  was  now  in  his  twenty-fifth  year,  and  in  all 
ways  was  a  complete  contrast  to  his  brother.  Small 
and  slight  in  person,  Don  Francisco's  features  were 
regular  and  insignificant,  his  complexion  fair,  his 
voice  a  high  falsetto,  his  manners  amiable,  inane,  and 
demure,  his  character  gentle,  lackadaisical,  and  colour- 
less. Something  of  a  linguist,  he  had  a  passion  for 
music,  could  write  sentimental  verses,  and  babble 
entertainingly.  Very  careful  in  his  dress,  and  in  the 
arrangement  of  his  sleek  hair,  he  was  fond  of  jewel- 
lery, fastidious,  polite,  and  precise.  Such  political 
opinions  as  he  was  capable  of  entertaining  favoured 
absolutism.  When  on  various  occasions  he  journeyed 
from  his  home  at  Cadiz,  in  the  company  and  under 
the  protection  of  his  father  and  sisters,  and  appeared 


lyo  Zbc  IRomancc  ot  IRoi^alt^ 

at  Court,  his  simpering  ways — heels  together,  hands 
folded,  head  held  on  one  side — were  a  butt  for  the 
ridicule  of  the  bouncing,  free-spoken  Isabel,  an  object 
of  laughter  to  the  maids  of  honour.  Her  Majesty's 
imitation  of  his  mincing  walk  brought  her  circle  to 
the  borders  of  hysteria.  A  nickname  was  given 
him. 

A  pretty  little  man  in  the  corner  of  a  drawing- 
room,  he  could  be  but  a  ridiculous  figure  on  a  throne  ; 
and  Cristina's  desire  to  make  him — from  whose  weak- 
ness she  need  fear  no  opposition — King  Consort,  was 
not  at  first  regarded  as  serious.  But  according  to 
the  scheme  of  Louis  Philippe,  there  was  no  husband 
more  fitting  for  Isabel  than  Don  Francisco  ;  for  be- 
lieving that  he  would  be  childless,  his  Majesty  secretly 
urged  that  Isabel  should  marry  Don  Francisco  at  the 
same  time  that  her  sister  married  the  Due  de  Mont- 
pensier,  whose  heir  must  therefore  inherit  the  Crown. 
Accordingly,  while  the  Ambassadors  of  England  and 
Austria,  of  Belgium  and  Portugal,  were  making  re- 
presentations from  their  respective  Governments, 
Cristina  had  decided  on  a  coup  d'etat.  Having  by 
persuasion  and  threats  wrenched  from  her  eldest 
daughter  a  consent  to  marry  the  man  she  despised 
and  ridiculed,  the  Queen-mother  immediately  pro- 
claimed the  engagement  of  Isabel  to  Don  Francisco, 
and  of  the   Infanta  to  the  Due  de   Montpensier. 

Every    Court    in    Europe,    with    the    exception    of 


Zbc  StoiT  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         171 

France,  was  amazed  by  this  news,  and  England 
realised  that  she  had  been  tricked.  The  date  of  the 
announcement  (August  28th,  1846)  had  been  selected 
because  at  that  moment  Queen  Victoria,  her  Prime 
Minister,  and  most  of  his  colleagues  in  the  Cabinet 
were  out  of  England,  and  no  immediate  protest  could 
come  from  the  English  Government.  On  hearing 
the  news  Lord  Palmerston  wrote  to  Henry  Lytton 
Bulwer  on  September  i6th:  "The  feeling  of  the 
Queen,  Lord  John  Russell,  Clarendon,  and  all  our 
colleagues  who  have  thought  of  these  matters  is 
alike.  We  are  all  indignant  at  the  bad  faith  and 
unscrupulous  ambition  and  base  intrigues  of  the 
French  Government.  It  is  hard  to  say  whether  they 
have  behaved  worse  in  forcing  upon  poor  Isabel  a 
husband  whom  she  dislikes  and  despises,  and  who 
may  be  a  husband  only  in  name  ;  or  towards  us  in 
promoting  a  marriage  to  which  they  well  knew  we 
had  strong  and  well-founded  political  objections,  and 
which  Louis  Philippe  and  Guizot  (his  Minister)  had 
personally  assured  the  Queen  and  Aberdeen  should 
in  no  case  take  place  till  Isabel  should  have  had 
children,  and  till  the  succession  should  thus  have 
been  secured." 

In  continuing,  Lord  Palmerston  said  he  had  told 
the  French  Ambassador  that  if  the  Montpensier 
marriage  took  place,  it  would  be  the  first  time  that 
the  promise  of  a    French  Sovereign  would  have  been 


172  Zbc  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

broken.  "  I  fear  my  civility  led  me  to  a  mis-state- 
ment of  past  history,"  adds  this  diplomat,  "  but  it  was 
right  to  pay  an  undeserved  compliment  as  to  the 
past,  when  I  was  making  a  personal  reproach  as  to 
the  present."  The  English  Sovereign  had  paramount 
grounds  for  indignation,  as  according  to  a  statement 
made  to  Henry  Reeve  by  Sylvain  Van  de  Weyer, 
the  Minister  and  confidant  of  Leopold,  King  of  the 
Belgians,  uncle  and  counsellor  of  Queen  Victoria, 
both  monarchs  had  it  in  their  power  to  bring  about 
the  marriage  of  Prince  Leopold  of  Coburg  to  Isabel, 
but  that  they  deliberately  refused  ;  to  do  so  from 
respect  to  their  engagements  with  France. 

"  The  Queen  of  Spain,"  says  Henry  Reeve,  ''  had 
established  by  private  means  a  correspondence  with 
Queen  Victoria.  The  letters  passed  through  the  hands 
of  Mr.  Huth,  the  merchant,  and  from  him  to  Van 
de  Weyer,  who  delivered  them.  Isabel  complained  in 
these  letters  of  her  desperate  and  forlorn  condition  ; 
said  she  was  bullied  and  threatened  by  the  French, 
and  expressed  her  abhorrence  of  the  marriage  Bresson 
was  urging  upon  her.  She  declared  that  if  King 
Leopold  and  Queen  Victoria  would  sanction  the 
Coburg  marriage,  she  would  throw  the  French  over, 
and  marry  Prince  Leopold  the  next  day.  The  King 
and  our  Queen  held  a  solemn  conference  and  delibera- 
tion on  the  subject.  Palmerston  was  informed  of  the 
transaction  ;  but  the  Ministers  seem  to  have  had    no 


XTbe  Storv?  of  Isabel  ll.  of  Spain         173 

great  voice  in  the  matter,  for  the  Queen  considered 
the  engagement  she  had  entered  into  at  Eu  as  a 
personal  promise,  and  England  had  consistently  de- 
clared that  she  had  no  candidate.  To  put  forward 
Prince  Leopold  at  the  last  hour  would  have  been 
to  forfeit  this  pledge,  which,  on  the  contrary,  was 
most  strictly  and  honourably  maintained.  It  was  the 
knowledge  of  this,  and  the  consciousness  that  a  less 
conscientious  policy  might  have  rescued  the  Queen  of 
Spain  from  a  dreadful  fate,  that  rendered  the  Queen 
of  England  so  indignant  when  it  turned  out  that  the 
French  Government  had  been  far  less  scrupulous,  and 
had  not  only  forced  on  the  marriage  of  the  Queen 
to  a  man  she  detested,  but  had  also  married  the 
Infanta  to  Montpensier." 

On  the  news  of  the  projected  marriages  being 
announced  to  her  by  Louis  Philippe,  Queen  Victoria 
wrote  him  a  reply  which  Lord  Palmerston  calls  "  a 
tickler."  "  Her  letter  was  quite  her  own,  in  concert, 
I  presume,  with  Prince  Albert,"  says  he,  "  and  I 
did  not  see  it  till  after  it  was  written,  but  I  concurred 
in  every  word.  She  claims  the  performance  of  his 
promise  to  her  to  delay  Montpensier's  marriage  till 
after  children  are  born  to  the  Queen.  In  his  letter 
to  her  he  had  dropped  all  mention  of  that.  She 
takes  no  notice  of  what  passed  between  the  Ministers, 
and  dwells  only  on  what  was  said  between  the 
Sovereigns." 


174  tibe  IRomance  of  IRo^altp 

Louis  Philippe's  excuse  for  his  breach  of  faith  was 
that  Lord  Palmerston's  recommendation  of  Prince 
Leopold  as  a  husband  for  Isabel,  had  led  him  to 
fear  there  was  imminent  danger  of  the  German  Prince 
becoming  King  Consort,  and  had  set  his  Majesty- 
free  from  all  engagements  and  promises.  As  he  was 
well  aware  that  Palmerston  had  favoured  Don  Enrique 
and  not  Prince  Leopold,  this  excuse  was  even  more 
feeble  than  that  set  up  by  the  French  Ambassador, 
that  his  master  had  only  acted  en  bon  pere  de  families 
in  securinsf  for  his  son  a  Princess  who  inherited  from 
her  father  fifteen  million  francs.  As  Louis  Philippe 
was  unwilling  to  postpone  the  Due  de  Montpensier's 
marriage,  Lord  Palmerston — who  now  spoke  of  the 
French  monarch  as  "  a  detected  pickpocket  " — thought 
the  only  thing  left  was  to  prevent  its  taking  place.  The 
main  obstacle  must  come  from  Spain,  he  says  to  the 
English  Ambassador.  "  Of  course  we  cannot  dabble 
in  insurrections,  and  can  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
responsibility  of  encouraging  measures  of  violence  ; 
but  any  extent  of  moral  and  political  resistance  will 
be  fair  and  desirable." 

If  Lord  Palmerston  imagined  that  some  rough- 
and-ready  means  to  prevent  the  Montpensier 
marriage  might  be  attempted  by  the  people,  he  was 
not  mistaken  ;  for  their  abhorrence  of  it  was  so 
great  that  only  the  prompt  action  of  the  soldiery 
prevented     an     insurrection.      Fearing    lest    anything 


xrbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         175 

should  happen  to  prevent  the  realisation  of  her 
scheme,  Cristina  had  no  sooner  obtained  a  reluctant 
consent  to  it  from  the  Cortes,  and  the  necessary 
dispensation  from  Rome,  than  she  fixed  on 
October  loth,  1846,  the  day  on  which  Isabel  would 
reach  her  sixteenth  birthday,  as  the  date  for 
the  double  ceremony.  Two  days  previously  the 
Due  de  Montpensier  and  his  brother,  the  Due 
d'Aumale,  with  their  suites,  entered  Madrid.  Don 
Francisco  de  Assisi,  the  future  King  Consort,  and 
his  father,  Don  Francisco  de  Paula,  Due  de  Cadiz, 
thought  it  beneath  their  dignity  to  ride  forward  to 
meet  these  visitors  outside  the  city  walls  ;  and  this 
office  was  therefore  deputed  to  less  exalted  individuals. 
While  the  city  was  surging  with  indignation  that 
was  barely  suppressed  by  companies  of  cavalry  clattering 
through  its  narrow  streets,  and  infantry  lining  the 
squares,  a  young  Spaniard  quietly  and  alertly  stepped 
into  the  English  Embassy,  and  with  a  confidential 
air  asked  for  his  Excellency  Henry  Lytton  Bulwer, 
saying  he  had  something  of  importance  to  tell  him. 
No  sooner  were  they  alone  than  he  began  to  give 
some  details  of  a  plot  which  he  felt  certain  would 
interest  his  hearer.  He  and  seven  others  had  taken 
an  apartment  in  a  house  which  the  French  Princes 
would  pass  on  their  way  to  the  palace.  From  the 
windows  of  this  apartment  the  seven  would  fire  at 
the  foreign  Princes  as  they  rode  forward.     A  crowd 


176  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRoyalt^ 

friendly  to   their  purpose   would   assemble   round    the 
house  and  help    the  assassins  to   escape  ;  but  in   case 
of  accident    or    pursuit     it    was    their    intention    to 
take   refuge  in   the   British  Embassy,   and    he    wished 
to    prepare    its    Ambassador    for    their    possible    visit. 
Sir  Henry  heard   him   in   attentive   silence,  and    then 
asked     for     his      name     and     address,    which     were 
unhesitatingly   given.      He    was    then    told    that    he 
would    not    be    betrayed,   but    that    the    police    would 
be   warned    regarding    the    house    he    mentioned,    and 
that   if  the   intention   to   murder  was    not    abandoned 
he  would  be  arrested  and  tried  for  his  life.     Paralysed 
by     surprise    at     the     unsympathetic     attitude     of    a 
Minister  whose  Government  it  was  well  known   had 
striven    to    prevent    this    French    alliance,    the    young 
Spaniard  bowed  profoundly,  and  with  supreme  courtesy 
declared   that  since  his  Excellency  disapproved  of  the 
attempt,   it  would  not  be  made. 

A  few  hours  after  the  departure  of  this  polite 
criminal,  the  French  Princes  made  their  entry  into 
Madrid  surrounded  by  all  the  pomp  of  splendid 
equipages,  military  escorts,  and  stirring  music. 
Slowly  they  passed  through  crowds  of  citizens  safely 
hemmed  back  by  soldiery,  who  stared  at  them 
curiously,  sullenly,  and  who  answered  the  foreigners' 
repeated  bows  with  scornful  smiles,  chilling  silence, 
and  the  shrugging  of  shoulders  under  cloaks  that 
probably  concealed  daggers. 


Zbc  Stor^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        177 

In  the  brief  time  that  elapsed  from  the  announce- 
ment of  the  alliances  to  the  date  fixed  for  their 
celebration  (October  loth,  1846)  Queen  Cristina 
made  all  possible  endeavour  to  mark  the  ceremony 
with  splendour.  It  may  have  been  fear  of  some 
hostile  expression  from  the  people  that  prevented  her 
from  having  them  solemnised  in  the  church  of  the 
Atocha,  where  the  members  of  the  Royal  House  are 
usually  married,  and  of  fixing  on  the  Throne-room, 
sometimes  called  Salon  des  Columnas,  for  the  purpose. 

The  Throne-room  is  a  splendid  and  spacious  apart- 
ment with  enormous  chandeliers  of  rock  crystal 
hanging  from  a  ceiling  covered  with  huge  and  gorgeous 
allegorical  figures  representing  the  majesty  of  Spain. 
At  one  end  stands  a  lofty  canopied  throne  resplendent 
in  crimson  and  gold,  four  bronze  lions  crouching  at 
its  feet,  its  sides  flanked  by  statues  of  Prudence  and 
Justice.  Half-covering  the  walls,  painted  in  fresco 
by  Juan  Bautista  Tiepolo,  are  immense  mirrors  ; 
porphyry  vases,  marble  busts  of  Roman  emperors, 
inlaid  tables,  and  golden  candelabra  add  to  the  general 
magnificence. 

On  this  occasion  an  altar  with  crucifix  and  candles 
had  been  placed  at  one  end,  and  in  front  of  it  the 
chairs  for  the  bridal  party.  At  the  hour  fixed  for  the 
ceremony  to  take  place,  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
this  vast  apartment  blazed  with  hundreds  of  candles 
in  the  chandeliers  and  candelabra  which  were  reflected 

VOL.    I.  12 


178  XTbe  IRoinance  ot  IRoi^altp 

and  intensified  by  the  mirrors,  and  that  brought 
into  conspicuousness  the  scarlet  and  gold  of  Court 
costumes  and  military  uniforms,  the  sheen  of  satins, 
she  brilliancy  of  jewelled  Orders  and  superb  coronets 
worn  by  those  assembled — the  grandees  of  Spain  with 
their  wives  and  eldest  sons,  the  ladies  and  great 
officers  of  the  palace,  the  ministers  and  presidents  of 
the  legislative  bodies,  the  Diplomatic  Corps,  deputies 
and  senators.  While  they  waited  anxiously,  whispering 
occasionally,  their  eyes  alert,  the  hearts  of  many  heavy 
with  forebodings,  a  slight  motion  was  seen  at  the 
doors  leading  to  the  Royal  apartments,  where  stood 
the  halberdiers  of  the  palace,  fine  fellows  six  feet  high, 
dressed  in  long  black  gaiters  half-way  up  the  thigh, 
broad-skirted  blue  coats  with  the  red  flaps  buttoned 
back,  long  waistcoats,  and  three-cornered  hats. 

This  movement  was  the  signal  for  the  appearance 
of  a  procession  of  acolytes  in  purple  cassocks  and 
lace  surplices,  bishops,  priests,  and  finally  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Cordova,  Patriarch  of  the  Indies,  in  glittering 
cope  and  jewelled  mitre.  A  moment  later  came  the 
French  Princes  wearing  military  uniforms,  and  after 
them  Don  Francisco  de  Assisi,  Prince  de  Bourbon, 
with  his  father.  Two  days  previously  the  future 
bridegroom  had  been  made  a  Field-Marshal  General 
of  Spain,  and  Cristina  had  presented  him  with  the 
splendid  uniform  of  that  high  post,  which  it  was 
hoped  would  lend  him  a  manly  and  imposing  appear- 


Ube  Stoii^  of  Isabel  il.  ot  Spain         179 

ance.  Into  this,  with  its  padded  chest  and  shoulders, 
and  bullioned  embroidery,  his  diminutive  and  feeble 
body  had  been  packed,  and  round  his  neck  had  been 
hung  the  insignia  of  the  Golden  Fleece  and  the 
Grand  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  Finally  came 
the  Queen-mother  with  her  two  daughters,  who  were 
richly  dressed  in  white,  veils  falling  from  head  to  feet. 
Isabel's  face,  usually  expressive  of  good  nature,  wore 
an  air  of  subdued  defiance  ;  the  Infanta  Fernanda, 
lean  and  brown,  looked  what  she  was,  a  timid  child. 

When  they  had  knelt  before  the  altar,  the  Patriarch 
with  his  attendant  bishops  advanced  to  them,  and 
the  ceremony  began.  The  Queen-mother  gave  her 
daughters  in  marriage,  the  Due  de  Cadiz  his  son, 
and  the  Due  d'Aumale  his  brother.  In  a  few 
moments  the  irrevocable  words  were  spoken,  and 
Isabel  had  sworn  to  love,  honour,  and  obey  the 
manikin  beside  her.  Throughout  the  ceremony  he 
had  been  far  more  nervous  than  she  ;  and  no  sooner 
was  it  over  than  the  poor  little  man,  with  sobs  in  his 
throat,  tenderly  embraced  and  clung  to  his  father  and 
sisters,  from  whom  he  was  about  to  be  parted  for  the 
first  time  to  enter  on  a  state  for  which  he  had  no 
heart,  and  into  which  he  had  been  thrust  by  an 
untoward  fate. 

That  night  the  Royal  palace  and  the  residences  of 
all  the  Government  officials  were  illuminated,  but  the 
houses  of  private    individuals    unconnected   with    the 


i8o  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRoi^alt^ 

Court  were  in  darkness.  It  was  noticed  with  surprise 
that  the  balcony  of  the  British  Embassy  displayed 
lights  and  flags,  but  it  was  explained  by  its  Minister, 
who  had  refused  to  be  present  at  the  marriage 
ceremony,  that  this  was  solely  due  to  its  being  the 
Queen's  birthday.  Next  morning  the  bridal  party, 
attended  by  the  whole  Court  and  surrounded  by 
all  possible  splendour,  drove  to  the  church  of  Our 
Lady  of  Atocha  to  assist  at  the  nuptial  Mass.  Shortly 
before  midday  this  procession,  consisting  of  thirty 
carriages,  left  the  palace  and  passed  through  streets 
and  squares  lined  with  troops  ;  but  though  the  whole 
population  of  the  capital  had  apparently  turned  out  to 
see  the  sight,  not  a  single  cheer  greeted  it.  Then, 
for  many  days  and  nights,  came  a  round  of  brilliant 
gaieties — masked  balls,  bull-fights,  grand  levees,  Court 
receptions — external  signs  of  rejoicing  that  could  not 
cover  from  observing  eyes  the  bitter  misery  of  the 
young  Queen. 


CHAPTER   II 

The  Result  of  the  Young  Queen's  Marriage — The  Handsomest  Man  in 
Spain— He  is  Politely  Known  as  "the  Influence" — Her  Mother 
Quits    Spain — Her    Husband   Leaves    the   Palace — A    Notorious 
Court — Attempt  to  get  rid  of  General  Serrano — Lord  Palmerston 
Regards  Isabel  with  Interest — Poison  Preferable  to  Scandal — The 
Favourite  gives  place  to  a  Successor — Lord  Malmesbury's  Account 
of  the  Spanish  Court — An  Opera-Singer  Arrested  and  Banished — 
The  New  Favourite^General  Narvaez  Attempts  to  Bring  Order 
to  the  Court — The  English  Ambassador  is  Given  his  Passports — 
Birth  of  Queen  Isabel's  first  Child—  Birth  of  her  Second  Child — 
Returning  Thanks    at   the    Church    of    the    Atocha — Attempted 
Assassination  of  the  Queen — Wild  Scene — The  Lunatic's  Execu- 
tion— Reasons  of  the  Queen's  Popularity — Her  Devotion  during 
Holy  Week — Ceremony  of  Washing  the   Feet — Fall  of  General 
Narvaez — Birth   of  another   Child — A   Revolution    Breaks   out — 
Palaces  Wrecked  and   Barricades  Erected— Death  to  Cristina — 
The  Queen  Mother  takes  Refuge  in  the  Royal  Palace — The  Reign 
of    Terror    in    Madrid — Ministers    Hide — Fear    of    the    French 
Ambassador— Isabel  Commends  the  Work  of  the  Mob — Espartero 
is  Sent  for — His  Envoy  waits  on  her  Majesty — Scene  in  the  Royal 
Palace — Isabel  Resolves  to  Abdicate — She  Changes  iier  Mind — 
Espartero,  Due  de  Vittoria,  arrives  in  Madrid  and  Restores  Order— 
The  Populace  Waits  and  Watches  for  Cristina — How  she  Left 
Madrid — Anger  of  the  People. 

THE  results  of  Isabel's  unhappy  marriage  soon 
became  apparent.  Before  it  had  taken  place 
there  had  been  whispers  in  the  air  of  her  admiration 
for   Don  Francisco  Serrano  y  Dominguez,  who  had  a 

z8i 


1^2  Ubc  l^oinance  of  IRoimlt^ 

reputation  for  being,  among  other  things,  the  hand- 
somest man  in  Spain.  Born  in  September,  1810,  he 
was  just  thirty-six  at  the  date  of  the  young  Queen's 
marriage.  Not  only  was  he  a  General  in  the  army 
but  he  had  held  office  in  a  former  Government, 
when  Isabel  had  named  him  "  el  bonito  Ministro." 
Evidently  considering  that  as  a  wife  she  was  more 
free  to  show  him  favour  than  when  she  had  been 
unrestricted  by  vows,  he  was  now  continually  beside 
her.  Fans  scarce  concealed  the  mischievous  smiles  of 
Court  ladies  ;  piquant  gossip  spread  through  the  palace 
as  ripples  might  on  a  lake  ;  the  shrugging  of  shoulders 
was  the  outward  and  visible  sign  of  a  general  tolerance 
that  almost  amounted  to  approval.  Because  of  the 
authority  his  position  gave  him,  Don  Francisco  Serrano 
was  politely  called  "  the  Influence "  ;  a  despicable 
epithet  was  found  for  the  little  King  Consort. 

The  Queen-mother,  indignant  at  her  eldest 
daughter's  conduct,  warmly  upbraided  her ;  but 
Isabel,  knowing  that  her  marriage  had  been  brought 
about  by  Cristina  for  her  own  selfish  ends,  defied  and 
resented  her  interference,  when  in  a  fury  of  indigna- 
tion the  Queen-mother  with  her  husband,  now  made 
Due  de  Rianzares,  and  their  children,  not  only  quitted 
Madrid  but  Spain,  and  settled  in  France.  Almost  at 
the  same  time  Isabel's  husband,  too  weak  to  interfere, 
too  humiliated  to  endure,  left  the  palace  at  Madrid 
and    took  up  his  residence   at   a   Royal  shooting-box, 


^be  Stor^  of  Isabel  II.  ot  Spain         183 

El  Pardo,  situated  about  six  miles  from  the  capital. 
The  Queen,  gradually  becoming  reckless,  threw  restraint 
to  the  winds,  and  those  surrounding  her  being  ready 
to  offer  her  the  highest  form  of  flattery,  her  Court 
became  notorious  throughout  Europe. 

At  this  juncture  the  Ministry,  shocked  by  the  Royal 
scandals  that  formed  the  subject  of  cynical  and  general 
conversation,  undertook  to  play  the  part  of  a  duenna  ; 
a  correspondence  between  Isabel  and  her  favourite 
was  intercepted  ;  and  he  was  peremptorily  bidden  to 
quit  Madrid  and  to  take  command  of  the  Basque 
provinces,  which  it  was  suddenly  discovered  imminently 
needed  his  presence.  A  voice  which  he  preferred  to 
obey  to  that  of  the  Government  bade  him  conceal 
himself  and  stay.  A  Ministry  that  had  behaved  with 
such  utter  disregard  to  her  happiness  could  not  be 
tolerated  by  the  Sovereign  ;  so  that  suddenly,  at  three 
o'clock  one  morning,  her  Majesty,  whose  pleasure  it 
was  to  turn  night  into  day,  formed  a  new  Cabinet, 
composed  chiefly  of  Serrano's  friends.  It  is  needless 
to  say  they  permitted  "  the  Influence  "  to  remain. 

The  Right  Hon.  Henry  Lytton  Bulwer  tells  us 
that  the  Foreign  Minister  of  a  nation  that  above  all 
things  admires  itself  for  its  morality,  "  looking  at  the 
young  Queen's  conduct  as  the  natural  result  of  the 
alliance  she  had  been  more  or  less  compelled  to 
contract,  regarded  her  rather  with  interest  and  pity 
than  blame  or  reproach,  and  was  for  taking  advantage 


i84  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

of  the  attachment  she  had  formed  for  the  purpose 
of  dissolving  her  own  marriage  and  for  setting  aside 
the  Montpensier  succession.  All  this  could  only 
be  accomplished  by  the  influence  of  General  Serrano. 
.  .  .  To  an  interdict  on  the  Duchess  of  Montpensier's 
succession  neither  the  Queen,  nor  her  Ministers,  nor 
Serrano  were  opposed  ;  but  the  Government  as  com- 
posed could  not  hope  to  achieve  nor  to  attempt  so 
great  an  enterprise.  If  it  would  or  could  form  an 
alliance  with  the  Progressistas,  it  might.  This  alliance 
therefore  became  our  policy.  But  it  was  not  easy 
to  bring  about." 

In  continuing,  the  English  Ambassador  says  that 
those  who  thought  everything  could  be  done  in 
foreign  countries  as  it  was  done  in  England,  were 
displeased  at  the  intimacy  which  Lord  Palmerston 
wished  him  to  cultivate  with  the  Spanish  Sovereign 
and  her  powerful  favourite.  "  But,"  he  adds, 
"  General  Serrano  was  an  honest  man,  and  a  good 
patriot,  and  the  Queen  had  a  good  heart  and  noble 
instincts  ;  and  much  might  have  been  done  at  that 
time  if  her  attention  had  been  awakened  to  public 
interests,  and  an  Administration  formed  with  the  more 
liberal  of  the  one  party  and  the  least  violent  of  the 
other."  The  same  authority  tells  us  it  was  the 
general  opinion  that  a  dissolution  of  her  marriage 
was  the  only  chance  for  her  of  a  happy  life  and  of  a 
creditable  reign.     "But  the  Spaniards  are  a  decorous 


trbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  IL  of  Spain         185 

people,"  says  he.  "  Some  very  respectable  and  re- 
spected men  discussed  very  gravely  the  propriety 
of  putting  the  King  quietly  out  of  the  way  by  a 
cup  of  coffee  ;  but  the  scandal  of  a  divorce  shocked 
them." 

Like  many  men  remarkable  for  their  handsome 
presence,  General  Serrano  lacked  strength  of  character. 
Instead  of  placing  himself  foremost  in  the  Govern- 
ment, he  yielded  to  persuasions,  said  to  be  backed 
by  bribery,  to  influence  the  Queen  to  send  for  the 
masterful  General  Narvaez,  then  in  exile.  Narvaez 
who,  next  to  his  own,  had  the  interests  of  his  country 
at  heart,  gladly  returned  from  Paris  ;  and  once  more 
was  the  means  of  bringing  back  to  Madrid  the  Queen- 
mother  that  she  might  help  him  to  introduce  morality 
and  order  into  a  Court  to  which  they  were  unwelcome 
strangers.  One  of  his  first  efforts  in  this  direction 
was  to  request  the  Queen  to  banish  the  man  who 
had  restored  him  to  power.  Without  threats  or 
entreaties  Isabel,  who  felt  the  attraction  of  novelty, 
was  gracious  enough  to  sanction  the  departure  from 
her  Court  of  a  favourite  of  whom  she  had  grown 
tired.  This  manifestation  of  human  nature  saved 
Narvaez  much  trouble  ;  while  to  Serrano  the  separa- 
tion was  deprived  of  its  bitterest  poignancy  from  the 
fact  that  he  was  presented  with  an  estate  in  Estre- 
madura,  bought  with  the  Queen's  money,  and  at 
the  same   time    named    Captain-General    of    Granada, 


iS6  Ube  IRoinance  of  IRoi^alt^ 

the  most  romantic  and  enchanting  province  in  the 
peninsula. 

In  touching  with  lightness  and  charm  on  these 
interesting  events,  Lord  Canning,  when  on  a  tour 
through  Spain  in  the  autumn  of  1 847,  writes  to  Lord 
Malmesbury  :  "  There  are  all  sorts  of  under-currents 
which  have  been  going  on  while  this  has  been  worked 
out.  As  matters  stand  now,  Serrano  is  without  any 
apparent  successor.  Narvaez  is  not  on  good  terms 
with  two  or  three  of  his  necessary  colleagues,  nor 
with  the  Queen-mother.  The  Queen  is  displeased 
and  frightened  at  her  mother's  return,  and  bored  by 
Narvaez,  and  as  she  has  not  the  smallest  sense  of 
responsibility,  may  at  any  moment  if  things  are  not 
made  smooth  to  her,  send  him  about  his  business 
and  appoint  some  new  man.  And  this,  I  am  convinced, 
will  be  the  state  of  things  with  every  Government  that 
may  come  into  existence  here  until  the  *  Minister ' 
and  the  '  Influence '  are  united  in  the  same  individual 
(as  was  the  case  with  Catherine  and  Elizabeth).  And 
if  Serrano  had  had  any  head  or  heart,  he  would  have 
done  this,  and  made  himself  Minister  in  name  and 
appearance,  even  if  he  did  not  feel  equal  to  the 
reality. 

"  I  said  there  was  no  apparent  successor  to  Serrano 
as  yet,  but  we  shall  not  have  long  to  wait.  The 
day  before  yesterday  a  singer  at  the  opera  came 
home    to    his  lodgings  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning 


Ube  Stots  ot  Isabel  ll.  of  Spain         1B7 

and  found  them  occupied  by  the  police,  who  had  a 
carriage  ready  to  take  him  off  to  Valencia,  the  reason 
being  that  his  night  had  been  passed  at  the  palace. 
To  say  the  truth,  this  appears  to  me  rather  hard, 
for  nothing-  is  deducible  from  the  hour  at  which  he 
left  the  palace,  inasmuch  as  the  Queen  turns  night 
into  day,  sees  her  Ministers  after  the  opera,  sups  at 
four  or  five,  and  does  not  go  to  bed  till  morning. 
However  as  this  man  is  not  her  singing-master,  I 
suppose  Narvaez  considers  that  he  had  no  business 
there.  At  all  events,  it  is  certain  that  he  is  packed  off." 
Though  an  itinerant  and  entertaining  opera-singer 
might  readily  be  banished,  it  was  more  difficult  to 
get  rid  of  a  man  of  higher  position  ;  and  for  a  con- 
siderable time  Colonel  Gandara  reigned  as  General 
Serrano's  successor.  At  his  wits  ends  to  establish  a 
semblance  of  propriety  at  a  Court  where  it  was  utterly 
disregarded,  Narvaez  summoned  the  King  from  El 
Pardo,  where  he  wrote  petty  verses,  admired  nature, 
and  moped.  Speaking  to  him  with  the  courteous 
severity  one  might  use  towards  a  child,  General  Narvaez 
told  his  Majesty  that  henceforth  he  must  appear  to 
play  his  part  by  keeping  beside  his  wife  when  she 
went  abroad.  Always  pliant,  the  King  readily  agreed, 
and  from  that  time  when  Isabel,  now  becoming  massive, 
drove  out,  a  diminutive  person  half  hidden  in  the 
billows  of  her  laces  and  flounces  might  with  attention 
be  discerned  in  a  corner  of  the  carriage.     At  the  same 


i88  XTbe  iRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

time  Narvaez  dismissed  a  number  of  her  Majesty  s 
household  who  were  not  remarkable  for  a  violent 
love  of  virtue  ;  and  fixed  certain  days  and  hours 
for  the  reception  of  the  Diplomatic  Corps  by  the 
Queen,  who  formerly  had  given  them  audiences  at 
whatever  time  of  the  day  or  night  suited  her  fancy 
or  convenience,  and  generally  when  she  was  attired  in 
a  dressing-gown,  with  her  feet  thrust  into  slippers. 

Meantime  an  insurrection  broke  out  in  Madrid  in 
March,  1848,  which  Narvaez  put  down  with  merciless 
severity.  His  daring  and  omnipotence  were  shown 
when  two  deputies,  Senores  Olozaga  and  Escosura, 
were  arrested,  and  though  not  accused  of  any  special 
offence,  nor  brought  before  any  particular  tribunal, 
were  banished  to  the  Philippines.  All  men  of  weight 
who  had  opposed  him,  were  without  any  pretence 
of  culpability,  seized,  imprisoned,  or  exiled,  while 
every  journal  that  did  not  eulogise  his  policy  was 
suppressed.  Though  the  English  Ambassador  did  not 
encourage  any  movement  against  him,  he  withheld 
from  him  the  support  he  desired.  Then  came  in- 
structions from  England  to  recommend  the  adoption 
of  a  Wal  and  constitutional  course  of  action  to  the 
Spanish  Government.  To  do  this  in  a  personal 
interview  with  a  fiery-tempered  man  like  Narvaez, 
was  likely  to  lead  to  an  affront  which  might  entail 
complications  ;  while  to  write  it  might  be  regarded  as 
an  impertinence  ;    the  British    Minister  therefore  sent 


Ube  Stori?  of  Isabel  IL  ot  Spain         189 

the   instructions    he    had    received    from    the    Foreign 
Office  to  Narvaez. 

This  communication  was  immediately  returned  with 
an  indignant  protest  ;  and  Henry  Lytton  Bulwer 
became  an  object  of  bitter  hatred  to  Narvaez,  who  was 
determined  to  get  rid  of  him.  The  EngHsh  Am- 
bassador from  that  time  became  the  recipient  of  many 
threatening  and  anonymous  letters  ;  and  on  one 
occasion  was  waited  on  by  an  upholsterer,  who  while 
unseen  behind  curtains  he  was  putting  up  in  the  house 
of  a  Spanish  Cabinet  Minister,  overheard  Bulwer's 
assassination  being  planned.  The  man's  deposition  was 
taken  down  and  despatched  to  England  ;  after  which 
the  Enghsh  Ambassador  called  on  the  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs  at  Madrid,  and  calmly  said  to  him,  "  You 
say  you  hear  absurd  stories  about  my  plotting  insurrec- 
tions. Now  I  have  a  story  against  your  Cabinet's 
plotting  murder,  and  this  story  is  substantiated  by 
respectable  evidence.  Of  course  I  do  not  believe  it, 
but  I  have  sent  it  home."  As  he  could  not  be 
frightened  away,  nor  yet  killed  with  safety,  Narvaez 
sent  him  his  passports  with  a  request  that  he  would 
leave  Madrid  within  twenty-four  hours.  No  sooner 
had  he  arrived  in  London  than  the  Spanish  Ambassador, 
Isturiz,  left  England,  and  for  a  time  relations  between 
the  two  countries  were  strained. 

Nearly   four   years   had   passed   since   her   Majesty's 
marriage   before  she   became  a  mother.      Hopes  had 


I90  Zhc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

been  expressed  that  her  child  should  be  a  son,  and  the 
question  of  its  paternity  warmly  discussed.  Ignoring 
such  detestable  scandal,  the  little  King  admirably 
played  the  part  of  father  when,  in  July,  1850,  with 
the  utmost  gravity,  the  infant  just  born  was  presented 
by  him  to  the  grandees  of  Spain,  the  Diplomatic  Corps, 
and  the  officers  of  State  assembled  in  the  Queen's 
anteroom.  With  equal  gravity  they  congratulated 
his  Majesty  on  the  birth  of  an  heir,  who  it  was 
hoped  would  rule  over  Spain.  These  loyal  wishes 
were  not  fulfilled,  for  three  days  later  the  babe  died, 
when  heads  were  shaken  and  glances  full  of  under- 
standing interchanged  ;  for  there  were  those  who 
believed  that  France  would  never  permit  an  offspring 
of  Isabel  to  stand  between  the  throne  and  the  Due 
de  Montpensier,  whose  father,  Louis  Philippe,  had 
on  February  24th,  1848,  been  flung  from  his  throne, 
and  had  escaped  from  France  with  his  life  and  a  few 
francs. 

Such  wicked  rumours  of  foul  play  were  silenced 
when  the  child  to  which  Isabel  gave  birth  in  December, 
1 85 1,  survived  and  throve.  That  it  was  a  girl,  was  a 
cause  of  disappointment  and  vexation  to  the  populace, 
the  guards  at  the  Royal  palace  resenting  with  mutterings 
and  curses  a  fact  over  which  those  most  concerned  had 
no  control.  The  infant,  who  was  worshipped  by  its 
mother,  was  baptised  Isabel  in  the  Chapel  Royal, 
in     the    presence    of    the    whole   Court.     A    greater 


TTbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  ll.  of  Spain         191 

and  more  imposing  ceremony  was  celebrated  when,  on 
the  Feast  of  the  Purification,  or  Candlemas  Day, 
February  2nd,  the  Queen  and  her  infant,  attended 
by  her  courtiers  and  Ministers,  went  in  state  to  return 
thanks  for  her  recovery,  and  to  present  her  child  to 
Our  Lady  of  Atocha  at  the  church  called  by  that 
name  because  its  statue,  supposed  to  be  carved  by  St. 
Luke,  was  brought  from  Antiocha.  At  the  end  of 
this  imposing  service,  Isabel,  dressed  in  crimson  velvet 
heavily  embroidered  with  gold,  an  odour  of  incense 
clinging  to  her,  the  sounds  of  Te  Deums  in  her  ears, 
her  round  face  beaming  with  happiness,  was  descending 
the  grand  staircase  when  she  caught  sight  of  a  gaunt 
and  threadbare  friar  with  wild  eyes  and  a  haggard  dark 
face  struggling  with  the  brilliant  crowd  around  to 
approach  her.  A  gesture  from  her  gave  the  wretched- 
looking  creature  the  permission  he  desired,  when  he 
fell  on  his  knees  before  her  and  held  out  a  petition. 
As  she  bent  forward  to  receive  it,  those  nearest  saw 
a  flash  of  steel.  Then  the  Queen  put  her  hand  to  her 
heart,  staggered  back,  and  fainted. 

After  an  instant's  lull  of  benumbed  surprise,  the 
wildest  confusion  broke  out.  Swords  were  drawn, 
deafening  yells  of  rage  were  raised,  and  it  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  the  culprit  was  saved  from  being 
torn  alive.  This  violent  uproar  brought  consciousness 
to  the  Queen,  who  on  opening  her  eyes  and  realising 
what  had  happened,  at  once  called  out,  "  My  child,  my 


192  XLbc  IRomancc  of  IRo^alt^ 

Isabel,  my  Isabel."  To  reassure  her  Majesty  and  the 
howling  seething  crowd,  that  the  little  Princess  was 
unhurt,  one  of  the  big  halberdiers  held  her  up  in 
his  arms  high  above  the  heads  of  all.  Then  amidst 
tears  and  groans,  cries  for  vengeance  and  words  of 
execration,  a  company  of  soldiers  led  from  the  scene 
the  man  who  in  an  instant  had  roused  this  fury,  and 
who  now  appeared  the  only  tranquil  person  present. 
A  brief  examination  showed  that  he  was  one  of  those 
maniacs  who  seek  distinction  by  aiming  at  the  lives 
of  Royalty  ;  that  he  had  no  motive  for  his  attempt  ; 
and  that  he  had  no  accomplices. 

Though  Isabel  pleaded  hard  for  his  hfe,  the  powers 
behind  the  Throne  were  determined  that  he  should 
be  made  an  example  of;  and  it  was  with  tears  in 
her  large  dark  eyes  that  she  agreed  to  have  him  de- 
capitated and  burnt.  The  day  appointed  for  this  to 
take  place  was  held  as  a  jubilee,  the  populace  turning 
out  in  thousands  to  see  the  life  of  a  fellow-creature 
taken  in  a  brutal  manner.  On  his  way  to  the  place 
of  execution  the  lunatic  seemed  indifferent  to  the 
thousands  of  eyes  fixed  on  him,  to  the  storm  of 
voices  execrating  him.  As  he  walked  through  the 
streets,  he  spoke  to  the  soldiers  nearest  to  him  on 
indifferent  matters,  and  once  he  paused  to  point  out  to 
them  that  a  church  tower  was  out  of  the  perpendicular 
and  threatened  danger  to  the  public.  When  on  the 
scaffold,  he  looked  down  calmly  on  the  forest  of  heads 


Ubc  StoiT  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain  193 

swaying  backwards  and  forwards  in  a  storm  of  hate  ; 
then,  apparently  without  interest  in  the  experiences 
to  befall  him  within  the  next  few  seconds,  he  laid 
his  neck  on  the  block.  The  executioner  refused  to 
burn  the  body,  saying  it  was  no  business  of  his  ;  but 
the  crowd  was  not  to  be  deprived  of  the  pleasure 
and  satisfaction  it  had  looked  forward  to,  and  several 
of  its  members  gladly  volunteered  to  perform  the 
ghastly  work  from  which  the  headsman  had  shrunk. 
A  few  minutes  later  and  the  pyre  was  fired,  a  human 
body  was  burnt,  and  its  ashes  scattered  to  the  winds, 
so  that  nothing  remained  of  this  maniac  but  his  name, 
which  was  cursed. 

When  a  ftw  days  later  her  Majesty  drove  once 
more  to  the  church  of  the  Atocha  to  return  thanks 
that  her  Hfe  had  been  saved — the  heavy  bullion  on 
her  dress  having  prevented  the  knife  from  penetrating 
to  her  heart — the  people  thronged  round  her  in  a 
paroxysm  of  delight,  shoving  aside  the  guards  that 
they  might  come  close  to  her,  shouting  words  of 
congratulation,  rough  "Te  Deums  of  thanksgiving,  as 
if  she  were  the  wisest,  most  virtuous,  and  beneficent 
of  rulers.  That  a  Sovereign  whose  life  was  an 
open  scandal,  whose  Court  was  a  scene  of  disorder, 
whose  weakness  and  caprices  allowed  the  Government 
to  pass  from  the  hands  of  one  political  adventurer  to 
another,  should  have  won,  not  merely  the  tolerance, 
but  the  popularity  of  her  subjects,  seems  astonishing. 

VOL.  I.  13 


194  'C^be  IRomance  of  IRo^alti? 

But  in  their  eyes  her  sins  had  many  excuses.  Reared 
by  a  grasping,  self-indulgent,  deceitful  mother,  she  had 
been  married  against  her  will  to  the  semblance  of  a 
man  whom  she  despised,  and  whose  mental  and  physical 
weakness  was  no  small  extenuation  for  her  infidelities. 
That  these  were  carried  on  with  a  frankness  that 
seemed  to  consider  the  conventionalities  as  unnecessary 
absurdities,  helped  to  condone  them  to  a  people  whose 
moral  code  is  of  wider  limits  than  is  openly  recognised 
by  nations  in  colder  latitudes.  Then  her  love  of 
mercy,  her  free-handed  generosity,  her  impulsive  good- 
nature, appealed  to  their  admiration,  as  did  also  her 
occasional  acts  of  religious  worship,  publicly  performed 
and  with  every  sign  of  sincerity.  When  the  Royal 
carriage  with  its  emblazoned  trappings  and  splendid 
horses,  driving  through  the  streets  of  Madrid,  over- 
took a  priest  and  his  acolyte  trudging  their  slow 
way  to  administer  the  last  sacraments  to  the  dying, 
Isabel,  following  the  ancient  custom  of  the  Sovereigns 
of  Spain,  instantly  got  out  that  her  place  might  be 
taken  by  the  bringer  of  consolation,  while  she  followed 
on  foot,  it  might  be  through  dirty  and  foul-smelling 
streets,  up  narrow  stairways  to  miserable  garrets, 
where  kneeling  on  the  bare  boards,  she  attended  the 
ceremonies,  talked  to  the  departing,  and  gave  help 
that  comforted  the  last  hours  and  freed  them  from 
care. 

Holy  Week,  the  last  in  Lent,  was  in  Isabel's  time. 


XLbc  Stort?  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         195 

kept  with  austere  solemnity.  All  shops,  theatres,  and 
opera-houses  were  closed  ;  the  people  dressed  in 
black  ;  and  the  nobility  setting  aside  their  carriages, 
walked  to  the  churches  which  were  crowded  all  day 
long.  Without  any  indication  of  Royalty  in  her 
apparel,  with  a  thick  mantilla  half  covering  her  face, 
the  Queen  was  certain  to  be  seen  in  the  hushed  gloom 
of  one  or  other  of  the  churches,  kneeling  for  hours 
together  and  overcome  by  religious  emotion,  as  she 
listened  to  or  contemplated  the  story  of  the  Passion. 
Then  with  many  bitter  sobs  she  bewailed  her  sins, 
groaned  over  their  number,  confessed,  undertook 
penances,  and  promised  amendment.  For  her  spirit 
was  willing,  for  a  week  at  least. 

On  the  Thursday  of  this  week  a  religious  rite  that 
had  something  of  a  Court  ceremony  took  place  in 
the  Hall  of  Pillars  in  the  Royal  palace.  This  was  the 
lavatoriOj  or  the  washing  by  their  Majesties  of  the 
feet  of  twelve  poor  men  and  twelve  poor  women, 
in  commemoration  of  the  divine  act  recorded  in  the 
gospels.  These  men  and  women  were  selected  from 
the  poorest  and  most  worthy  in  the  villages  sur- 
rounding the  capital.  Seated  on  benches  at  either  side 
of  this  vast  apartment,  they  waited  in  awe  and  wonder 
the  coming  of  the  Court  in  all  its  magnificence.  Then 
a  door  opened  and  the  Royal  hosts  of  mortals  so 
humble  entered  ;  the  King  in  his  uniform  of  a  Field- 
Marshal-General,  the  Queen,  as  was  her  custom,  in  a 


196  tCbe  IRomance  ot  IRo^alti? 

gown  of  red-gold  brocade,  a  diadem  on  her  head,  her 
arms  and  breast  blazing  with  jewels.  Behind  them 
came  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  Household, 
Cabinet  Ministers,  and  Ambassadors  with  their  wives, 
and  many  grandees,  all  in  full  Court  dress — a  brilliant 
throng,  dazzling  to  eyes  dim  from  age  and  unaccus- 
tomed to  splendour. 

Very  humbly  did  the  King  and  Queen  go  down  on 
their  knees  before  these  figures  of  age  and  infirmity 
and  wash  their  feet,  tired  and  sore  from  endless 
walking,  misshapen  from  pain,  shrivelled  from  age. 
And  this  being  done,  these  lowly  subjects  were  placed 
at  a  table  and  were  served  with  a  bountiful  supper  by 
their  Sovereigns,  to  whom  the  dishes  were  handed  by 
the  lords  in  waiting.  It  was  on  such  an  occasion  that 
a  magnificent  diamond  fell  from  her  Majesty's  breast 
on  to  the  plate  of  a  poor  man.  While  he,  scarcely 
daring  to  touch  this  dazzling  object,  hesitated  and 
looked  in  bewilderment  at  the  Queen,  she  said  to  him, 
"  Keep  it,  it  has  fallen  to  your  lot."  So  he  went 
from  the  palace  enriched  and  rejoicing. 

Though  General  Narvaez  gripped  power  with  an 
iron  grasp,  it  was  eventually  loosened  by  those  who 
feared  him  and  had  suffered  under  him.  Then,  by 
one  of  those  sudden  turns  in  the  affairs  of  State  which 
characterised  the  reign  of  Isabel,  he  was  flung  from 
his  high  position  and  once  more  obliged  to  seek  refuge 
abroad,    in    the    spring    of    1851.     The    sight    of  his 


XT  be  Stoi\^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         197 

square  head,  of  his  stern,  comnianditig  face,  which  had 
kept  Isabel  in  order,  being  no  longer  seen  at  Court, 
her  Majesty  quickly  relapsed  into  ways  she  had 
reluctantly  left,  surrounded  herself  with  an  entertain- 
ingly disreputable  circle,  exchanged  her  favourites  with 
startling  rapidity,  raising  them  frequently  to  high  rank, 
as  when  she  made  Don  Jose  de  Arana,  Due  de  Baena, 
and  not  only  drew  them  from  the  army  and  from 
politics,  but  showed  wide-minded  liberality  in  patronis- 
ing art  in  the  persons  of  Emilio  Arrieto,  the  com- 
poser, and  Tirso  Obregon,  the  singer. 

At  length  the  pride  of  the  Spanish  grandee  awoke  to 
the  fact  that  Royalty,  which  was  the  head  of  their 
order  and  part  of  their  estate,  was  being  dragged 
through  the  mud.  The  people  also  became  disgusted 
with  intrigues  such  as  they  were  accustomed  to  associate 
with  establishments  which  were  not  named  Courts. 
When  in  January,  1854,  the  Oueen  gave  birth  to 
another  child,  the  general  feeling  was  that  the  less 
said  about  it  the  better.  In  writing  of  this  event, 
"  An  Attache  in  Madrid,"  who  lived  in  the  capital 
during  these  troubled  years,  and  who  in  his  Sketches 
of  the  Court  of  Isabel  11.^  has  left  a  record  of  his  im- 
pressions to  which  these  pages  are  much  indebted, 
says  that  the  press  washed  its  hands  of  the  whole  affair 
by  keeping  the  most  contemptuous  silence  concerning 
the  event.  "The  bulletins  of  the  physicians,  though 
inserted,  are  put  in,  not  at  the  head  of  the  newspapers, 


193  ^be  U^omance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

where  all  interesting  and  important  news  is  recorded, 
but  amongst  the  indifferent  news,  without  remark  or 
comment." 

The  selfish  indifference  of  her  Majesty,  who  so 
long  as  her  own  pleasures  were  not  interfered  with, 
was  tolerant  of  wholesale  fraud  by  public  men,  and 
regardless  of  the  welfare  of  her  long-suffering  subjects, 
resulted  in  a  succession  of  Ministers  whose  chief 
object  it  was  to  enrich  themselves  at  the  expense  of 
the  country.  Eventually  this  turned  the  thoughts 
of  the  people  to  her  dethronement.  And  of  all  the 
corrupt  Governments  of  her  troubled  reign,  perhaps 
none  was  so  intolerably  bad  as  that  formed  under  the 
unscrupulous  and  tyrannical  Sartorius,  Comte  de  San 
Luis,  once  a  tradesman,  now  a  Prime  Minister.  In 
public  hatred  he  stood  foremost  save  one — the  Queen- 
mother,  who  in  the  shameful  and  general  scramble 
for  gain  and  power  during  the  past  few  years,  had 
exerted  all  her  craft  and  mendacity  to  accumulate 
wealth  for  her  husband  and  children. 

Sick  of  Isabel  and  her  favourites,  of  her  rapacious 
mother  and  her  dishonest  Ministers,  the  whole  nation 
seethed  in  rebellion,  whose  outbreak  was  daily  ex- 
pected and  desired  in  the  beginning  of  1854.  As  a 
sample  of  the  leaflets  which  at  dead  of  night  were 
thrust  under  every  doorway  in  Madrid,  the  following 
is  given  :  "  Spaniards.  We  have  endured  long  enough. 
The  degradation  of  power  has  arrived   at  its  height. 


tbe  ^toit  of  Isabel  ll  ot  6patn        199 

The  laws  are  broken.  The  Constitution  does  not 
exist.  The  Ministry  of  the  Queen  is  the  Ministry  of 
an  imbecile,  absurd,  and  ridiculous  favourite  ;  of  a 
man  without  reputation,  without  glory,  without  talent, 
without  courage,  without  other  titles  to  the  supreme 
power  but  those  which  can  be  founded  on  licentious 
weakness.  .  .  .  Are  we  to  suffer  so  much  ignominy 
with  impunity  ?  Are  there  no  swords  in  the  land  of 
the  Cid.^  Are  there  no  pikes  ?  Are  there  no  stones  ? 
Up,  up  Spaniards.  Death  to  the  favourite.  Long  live 
the  Constitution.      Long  live  Liberty." 

The  long-threatened  revolution  broke  out  on  June 
28th,  1854  when  a  military  insurrection  was  followed 
by  an  uprising  of  the  whole  population  of  Madrid, 
who,  out-leaping  all  restraint,  were  intent  only  on  a 
long-deferred  revenge.  Men,  women,  and  children, 
laughing  in  triumph,  implacable,  determined  on  de- 
struction, rushed  through  the  streets  screaming  out, 
"  Death  to  Cristina.  Death  to  San  Luis.  Death  to 
the  robbers."  Mighty  in  their  numbers,  defiant,  un- 
afraid, they  built  high  pyres  before  the  Government 
offices  and  the  houses  of  the  Ministers.  At  a  given 
signal,  and  to  sounds  of  deafening  howls  of  fury,  these 
were  set  alight,  while  the  Civil  Guard  and  the  com- 
paratively small  number  of  soldiers  who  had  not 
joined  the  rebels,  or  gone  in  pursuit  of  them,  re- 
mained inactive  spectators,  not  even  taking  effective 
action   when  the   mob   broke  down   the   doors  of  the 


200  Zhc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

municipal  offices  and  seized  the  arms  found  there,  or 
when,  forcing  their  way  into  the  houses  of  the 
Ministers — who  were  in  hiding — the  people  flung 
from  their  windows  all  that  was  portable  ;  priceless 
pictures,  books,  mirrors,  and  rich  furniture,  over  the 
destruction  of  which  the  ready  flames  roared  with  a 
delight  as  exultant  as  that  of  the  desperadoes  who, 
hand  in  hand,  danced  around  them,  yelling,  embracing, 
glorying  in   victory   and  vengeance. 

Among  the  residences  of  the  Ministers  looted  and 
wrecked  in  this  way,  that  of  San  Luis  sufi^ered  most, 
with  the  exception  of  the  two  palaces  built  respectively 
for  his  wife  and  his  mistress  by  Salamanca,  who  by  a 
single  fraudulent  deal  in  the  public  funds,  was  said  to 
have  cleared  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds. 
The  whole  of  the  inestimable  art  collections  of  this 
refined  rogue,  who  was  called  the  Spanish  Monte 
Cristo,  were  utterly  destroyed.  It  was  however  in 
wrecking  the  residence  of  the  Queen-mother  that  the 
infuriated  populace  found  its  greatest  gratification. 
Warned  in  time,  she  and  her  three  children  had  fled 
for  refuge  to  the  Royal  palace,  to  protect  which  all 
the  troops  in  the  garrison  had  concentrated  themselves. 
At  sunset  a  seething  mass  of  clamorous  people  gathered 
in  front  of  her  palace,  ready  to  burn  her  detested 
Majesty  alive,  could  they  but  lay  hands  on  her. 
Their  repeated  rush  to  effect  an  entrance  was  for  a 
time    repulsed    by    the    Civil    Guard  ;  but    eventually 


tTbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  ll.  of  Spain         20 1 

the  women,  beside  themselves  with  fury  and  indifferent 
to  danger,  flung  themselves  on  the  bayonets  presented  to 
them,  and  followed  by  the  men,  forced  their  way  into 
the  coloured-glass  vestibule  of  the  Royal  residence.  A 
mighty  crash  recorded  the  first  triumph  ;  then  trampling 
each  other  down  as  they  rushed  up  the  great  staircase 
yelling  and  swearing,  they  poured  into  the  apartments, 
where  blind  with  rage,  indifferent  to  what  they  laid 
hands  on,  they  not  only  flung  out  pictures,  statues, 
and  furniture  as  fuel  for  the  fire,  but  gold  and  silver 
plate.  Penetrating  to  the  wardrobes,  the  women 
dressed  themselves  in  Royal  robes,  and  assuming 
mocking  postures,  exhibited  their  splendour  from  the 
balconies  to  the  cheering  throng  below. 

Only  when  the  palace  was  a  complete  wreck  and  had 
been  set  on  fire,  was  the  pleasure  of  the  mob  interfered 
with  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  a  company  of 
cavalry.  Before  it  could  be  driven  back  a  discharge 
of  musketry  was  heard.  Surprise  held  all  silent  for 
a  second,  and  then  arose  a  wild  cry  of  rage  and 
terror.  Following  up  the  impression  they  had  made, 
the  soldiers  dispersed  the  crowd,  and  after  a  time, 
and  when  irreparable  injury  had  been  done,  succeeded 
in  putting  out  the  fire. 

For  days  and  nights  confusion  and  terror  reigned 
through  the  city.  Sufficient  soldiers  remained  to  put 
down  the  tumult  if  determined  resistance  were  made 
and  bloodshed  disregarded,  but  the  military  authorities 


202  tibe  iRomance  of  l^o^alt§ 

either  feared  the  consequences  of  an  encounter  with 
the  people,  or  thought  it  best  to  let  their  fury  spend 
itself  in  this  way.  Full  advantage  was  taken  of  this 
leniency.  Barricades  built  of  stones,  mattresses,  chairs, 
tables,  carts,  and  carriages  were  erected  in  the  principal 
streets  and  squares,  decorated  with  flags  and  flowers, 
illuminated  at  night,  and  watched  over  at  all  hours 
by  men  armed  with  muskets  and  sabres.  Serried 
groups  of  them  stood  at  the  corners  of  streets  ready 
to  resent  any  interference  of  the  soldiers,  on  whom 
others  flung  tiles  and  bricks  from  the  roofs  of  houses. 
The  numbers  of  the  rioters  was  rapidly  increased  by 
the  adventurers  and  beggars,  who  scenting  prey, 
hurriedly  poured  in  from  the  surrounding  country, 
ragged,  hungry,  wild-eyed,  eager  for  spoil. 

Every  square  became  a  battlefield  on  which  was 
lost  the  lives  of  those  in  the  pay  or  favour  of  the 
Government,  the  secret  police,  and  occasionally  the 
soldiery  when  they  ventured  to  interfere  ;  every  street 
was  torn  up  ;  palaces  were  deserted  or  left  in  ruins  ; 
churches  were  closed  and  barred  ;  bullets  whizzed 
through  the  air.  The  heat,  dust,  and  uproar  in  those 
sultry  July  days,  the  crowds  of  furious  men  and 
still  more  furious  women — their  faces  blackened  with 
smoke  and  distorted  by  passion,  their  half-naked  bodies 
sweltering — the  smell  of  blood,  the  sight  of  bodies 
torn  by  shot  or  stark  in  death,  made  the  city  seem 
like  a  hell. 


tbe  Stoti^  of  Isabel  IL  of  Spain        403 

When  the  insurrection  broke  out,  Isabel  with  her 
entourage  was  enjoying  herself  at  La  Granja,  one 
of  her  country  palaces.  On  hearing  news  of  it,  she 
decided  to  return  immediately.  She  who  from  infancy 
had  been  as  accustomed  to  revolutions  as  an  ordinary 
child  is  to  thunderstorms  had  no  doubt  that  this 
was  but  a  passing  tempest  which  a  sight  of  her 
presence,  or  a  few  promises  more  or  less,  would  be 
sufficient  to  end  in  sunshine  that  would  smile  on  her 
as  usual. 

No  word  she  had  heard  prepared  her  for  the 
sights  she  saw.  As  her  carriage,  covered  with  dust 
and  drawn  by  four  horses  in  a  lather  of  sweat, 
entered  the  gates,  she  could  hear  savage  shouts  above 
the  strains  of  a  band  playing  the  Hymn  of  Liberty. 
And  presently,  as  she  passed  through  groups  and 
crowds  of  her  subjects,  she  was  met  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life  by  sullen  and  threatening  glances, 
while  a  sharp  hiss  fell  on  her  ear  as  a  stroke 
might  on  her  cheek.  She  had  gone  but  a  short 
way  when  her  progress  was  stopped  by  one  of 
*'  the  bulwarks  of  patriotism,"  as  the  barricades  were 
named,  and  her  coachman  was  obliged  to  turn 
the  horses  heads  in  a  fresh  direction.  This  led 
her  down  the  Calle  de  Cedaceros,  and  past  the 
residence  of  Salamanca,  now  a  ruin  with  smashed 
windows  and  door  torn  from  its  hinges,  the  burnt 
remains    of    his     furniture,    the    shrivelled    strips    of 


264  tlbe  IRomance  of  IRo^altg 

his  masterpieces,  the  spHnters  of  his  Venetian  mirrors, 
lying  in  the  ashes  of  the  bonfire  in  front.  Another 
turn  and  the  horses  were  pulled  up  to  allow  the 
funeral  of  a  victim  of  the  riot  to  pass,  when 
among  the  wail  of  chanting  monks  were  heard 
mutterings  and  maledictions.  As  she  neared  her 
palace,  bristling  with  the  bayonets  of  soldiers,  she  saw 
the  blackened  shell  of  her  mother's  residence,  and 
at  the  same  time  heard  the  cry  of  "  Death  to 
Cristina.     Death  to  the  robber," 

The  Sovereign's  presence  among  her  subjects 
entirely  failed  to  have  the  effect  she  expected.  The 
capital  was  in  revolt  beyond  appeasing,  and  her 
Ministers,  fearing  to  be  torn  asunder,  were  in 
hiding.  Such  a  concession  as  a  proclamation  dis- 
solving the  hated  Ministry  might  have  gone  far 
towards  restoring  public  order  ;  but  this  was  not 
done  at  once  by  her  Majesty,  and  meantime  an 
armed  mob  ruled  the  city,  which  was  illuminated 
night  after  night,  the  balconies  of  the  wrecked 
houses  being  lit  with  coloured  lamps  in  mockery  of 
their  masters,  while  the  barricades,  of  which  there 
were  two  hundred  and  sixty-four,  were  the  scenes  of 
wine  drinking,  guitar  playing,  dancing  and  revelry. 
As  an  attempt  on  the  Royal  palace  where  Cristina 
was  taking  refuge,  was  feared,  it  was  guarded  by  two 
companies  of  the  National  Militia  and  two  companies 
of  the  regular  troops.     Every  gate  in  the  city  .was  care- 


XTbe  Story  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         205 

fully  watched  lest  the  Queen-mother  or  the  Ministers 
might  escape  in  disguise  ;  so  that  every  muleteer 
on  his  way  from  Madrid  was  obliged  to  dismount 
and  submit  to  examination ;  every  foot  passenger 
forced  to  unwrap  his  cloak  and  lift  his  sombrero  ; 
every  woman  to  show  that  she  bore  no  semblance 
to  Royalty. 

More  than  once  it  was  rumoured  that  a  raid 
would  be  made  on  the  Benavente  Palace,  the  residence 
of  the  French  Ambassador,  where  it  was  said  about 
sixty  persons  were  in  hiding.  Among  those  who 
had  taken  refuge  there  were  the  daughters  and  the 
youngest  son  by  a  second  marriage  of  the  Due 
de  Cadiz,  father  of  the  King  Consort.  This  boy, 
always  of  weak  intellect,  died  of  sheer  fright  during 
this  Spanish  reign  of  terror.  But  to  the  populace 
his  life  or  death  was  of  little  importance  compared 
to  the  fact  that  San  Luis  was  believed  to  be 
concealed  at  the  Embassy.  It  was  also  rumoured 
that  the  jewels  of  the  Queen-mother  had  been 
taken  there  for  safety  by  a  faithful  Swiss  servant, 
who  during  the  raid  on  the  palace  had  managed  to 
fill  her  apron  with  them  unseen,  and  afterwards  to 
pass  unsuspected  through  the  crowds  with  her  treasure, 
which  she  deposited  with  the  French  Ambassador. 
Next  to  laying  hands  on  San  Luis,  the  mob  desired 
to  lay  hands  on  these  jewels.  Frightened  for  the 
safety    of   those    under    his    roof,  as    well    as   for   his 


2o6  XTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

own  life,  the  French  Ambassador  declared  that  he 
would  demand  his  passports  if  such  an  infringement 
of  diplomatic  rights  as  an  attack  on  his  house  was 
made  ;  a  threat  that  only  plunged  Isabel  into  fresh 
difficulties  and  fears.  Eventually  San  Luis,  having 
shaved  his  moustaches  and  whiskers,  and  dyed  his  fair 
hair,  was  jolted  across  the  Pyrenees  in  the  rotunda 
of  a  diligence  in  the  disguise  of  a  valet  ;  and 
Salamanca,  made  up  as  a  Bordeaux  wine  merchant, 
escaped  through  the  contrivance  of  a  Frenchman. 

At  length  an  attempt  to  restore  order  was  made 
by  a  Junta  under  the  presidency  of  General  Evaristo 
de  San  Miguel,  once  Minister  of  War,  and  always 
a  popular  figure  with  the  people.  This  provisional 
Government  declared  itself  a  "  Junta  for  the  safety, 
armament,  and  defence  of  Madrid,  whose  object  it  is 
to  give  a  successful  direction  to  the  popular  move- 
ment, to  economise  bloodshed,  and  to  save  the  in- 
stitutions trampled  on  by  the  most  barbarous  and 
unheard  of  tyranny."  Furthermore,  it  published  a 
document  calling  on  all  the  armed  citizens  to  cease 
firing  unless  in  case  of  provocation,  and  upon  all 
officers  to  give  the  same  orders  to  their  troops. 
This  was  a  movement  in  the  right  direction  and 
was  followed  by  another  most  calculated  to  end  the 
revolution  ;  for  tardily,  and  when  it  was  seen  no 
other  course  would  serve.  Queen  Isabel  announced 
that  she  had  dismissed  her  Cabinet,  and  had  entrusted 


Xlbe  Stor^  ot  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         207 

the  formation  of  a  new  Government  to  Don  Baldomero 
Espartero,  Due  de  Vittoria. 

But  even  the  appointment  as  President  of  the 
Council,  of  General  Espartero,  the  one  man  above 
all  others  in  whose  honesty  and  honour  her  subjects 
had  faith,  did  not  induce  the  people  to  lay  down  their 
arms  or  to  abandon  the  barricades,  "  the  robust 
pedestals  of  our  liberties  "  ;  and  it  was  decided  by  them 
that  they  should  maintain  their  defensive  position 
until  the  appointment  of  a  National  Guard.  The 
Junta  then  strove  to  mollify  and  humour  a  force  that 
still  held  the  capital  in  its  frantic  grip,  that  nightly 
surrounded  the  Royal  palace  crying  for  the  head 
of  Cristina,  and  that  was  strong  enough  to  imitate 
the  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution.  Accordingly, 
a  decree  was  issued  by  this  Government,  to  which 
her  Majesty  was  obliged  to  give  her  assent,  "  immor- 
talising the  great  deeds  that  have  saved  liberty  and  public 
morality."  At  the  same  time  it  conceded  a  grade 
'*  to  all  officers  who  alone  or  with  troops  have  adhered 
spontaneously  to  the  popular  movement  ;  the  deduction 
of  two  years  service  to  the  soldiers  who  have  done 
the  same  "  ;  while  all  those  in  the  civil  and  military 
branches  of  the  administration  who  had  aided  the 
popular  cause — in  other  words,  the  revolution — were 
to  be  recommended  to  the  Government.  This 
remarkable  decree  ended  with  the  sentence  which 
most    of  all    emphasised    its    liberality,   saying,  "  The 


2o8  Hbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

persons  of  the  late  Ministry,  forming  the  San  Luis 
Cabinet,  as  well  as  that  of  the  Count  de  Quinto, 
the  ex-Governor  of  Madrid,  shall  be  detained  and  put 
at  the  disposal  of  the  Junta,  to  be  submitted  to  the 
tribunal  by  whom  they  are  to  be  judged." 

The  Queen  had  sent  a  telegram  to  Espartero, 
summoning  him  from  Logrono,  in  the  province  of 
Aragon,  where  he  had  been  living  in  peaceful  retire- 
ment ;  but  heavy  days  rolled  past  without  bringing 
his  needed  presence  to  the  capital.  Meantime  the 
dreaded  prospect  of  a  sudden  attack  on  the  Royal 
palace  hung  like  a  sword  above  that  massive  building, 
within  whose  rooms  Cristina  strode  backwards  and 
forwards  in  impotent  rage,  her  dry  eyes  burning  with 
hatred  of  her  enemies,  her  bearing  haughty  and 
defiant.  On  July  24th,  the  feast  of  her  patroness 
St,  Cristina,  the  balconies  of  nearly  every  house 
in  Madrid,  and  all  the  barricades,  were  hung  with 
black,  while  the  streets  and  squares  that  had  blazed 
with  light  from  sunset  to  dawn  since  the  revolution 
began  were  on  this  date  unrelieved,  brooded  over 
by  darkness. 

Unable  to  assume  the  calmness  shown  by  her  mother, 
Isabel  was  overcome  by  dread  for  the  safety  of  Cris- 
tina and  of  her  only  child  ;  the  poor  little  Infanta 
whose  birth  had  been  received  in  chilling  silence, 
having  after  an  experience  of  three  days,  quitted  a 
world  that   had   treated   her  in  a  manner  unbecoming 


Ubc  Stou^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         209 

the  chivalry  of  Spain.  It  was  true  that  inside  and 
out  the  palace  bristled  with  soldiery  ;  but  the  Queen 
knew  that  their  loyalty  could  not  be  trusted,  and  with 
a  beating  heart  she  listened  night  and  day  to  the 
slightest  noise,  which  she  interpreted  as  the  beginning 
of  the  long-expected  raid.  Shut  up  within  its  walls, 
worn  out  by  nervous  fears,  and  unable  to  take  the 
air  abroad  in  this  stifling  weather,  her  health  gave 
way.  To  give  her  some  relief  the  Junta  issued 
an  announcement  on  the  27th  of  the  month  saying, 
'*  Her  Majesty  the  Queen  will  go  out  this  evening 
at  six  o'clock  to  visit  her  loyal  people  of  Madrid. 
The  Junta  of  safety,  armament,  and  defence  will 
accompany  the  Royal  person  during  her  promenade, 
which  will  be  guarded  by  the  National  Guards  and 
the  army.  This  promenade  of  her  Majesty,  after  the 
grave  conflict  through  which  the  people  of  Madrid 
have  passed,  will  be  a  manifesto  of  the  alliance  which 
fortunately  reigns  between  the  people  and  the  con- 
stitutional throne."  When  the  hour  for  her  drive 
came,  the  Queen  absolutely  refused  to  go  out,  lest 
in  her  absence  an  entry  might  be  forced  by  her  loyal 
subjects  into  the  palace,  and  her  mother  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  mob. 

While  she  was  still  suffering  from  suspense,  it  was 
announced  one  morning  that  an  envoy  from  the  Due 
de  Vittoria  had  arrived  from  Logrono,  and  requested 
an    audience    of  her   Majesty.       This    messenger   was 

VOL.   I.  14 


210  Ube  IRomance  ot  IRopaltg 

General  Allende  Salazar,  a  sturdy,  plain-spoken  soldier 
and    good  patriot,    who    was    deeply   incensed    at    the 
deplorable   condition   to   which   his  country   had   been 
brought.       No   sooner   was  his   message   conveyed   to 
Isabel,  than   he  was  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the 
Majesty    of    Spain,    whom    he    found    wrapped    in    a 
dressing-gown,    her   hair   in  disorder,    her  heavy    face 
swollen    from    sleeplessness    and    tears.       After  a   few 
words  he  handed  her  a  paper  from  Espartero,  stating 
that  if  he  consented  to  form  a  Government  and  restore 
peace  to  the  country,  certain   powers    must  be    given 
to  him  in  return,  among  them  that  of  dismissing  the 
entire    Household    of    her    Majesty.       Astonished    at 
such  a  demand,  Isabel,  always   impulsive,   indignantly 
refused  it.     At  that,  a  remark  concerning  the  reputa- 
tion of  her    entourage    fell    from    the    General's    lips. 
A  flippant  reply  acted  as  a  spark  on  powder  in  igniting 
his    indignation,    and    with    that    plainness    that    gives 
strength    to    expression,   he   took  the    liberty  to  state 
that  her  immoralities  were  the    shame  of   the  nation. 
Her  answer  was    that    common  to  those  accused  and 
guilty  :    "  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean."     He  was 
good  enough  to  furnish  her  with  some  details,  when 
boiling  over  with  wrath,  she  cried   out,  "  I  have  never 
been  spoken    to   in    this    way    before."     With  severe 
politeness  the    General  gave    her    credit    for   veracity. 
"  I  have   no   doubt  of  it,  madame,"  said  he,   "  for  it 
s  not  often  that  truths  are  spoken  in  a  palace." 


XTbe  Stor\)  ot  Isabel  IL  of  Spain        21 1 

At  that,  Isabel,  no  longer  able  to  control  her  rage, 
went  into  hysterics,  threatened,  and  sobbed.  In  the 
midst  of  this  storm  there  entered,  from  an  adjoin- 
ing room,  with  short  steps  and  a  gentle  air,  a  mild, 
prim  little  gentleman  whom  General  Salazar  recognised 
as  the  King  Consort.  Almost  from  his  wedding  day 
his  Majesty  had  been  a  passive  and  interested  spectator 
of  the  long  and  varied  number  of  those  who  had 
possessed  that  fascination  for  his  wife  which  had 
never  been  his.  Too  timid,  too  chivalrous  to  utter 
the  crude,  naked  truths,  which  he  had  overheard,  he 
was  not  grieved  that  they  should  have  been  spoken 
to  her  by  another.  It  was  not,  therefore,  with  drawn 
sword  that  he  advanced  to  avenge  her  Majesty,  but  to 
request  politely  that  General  Salazar  would  deprive 
himself  of  the  honour  of  his  Sovereign's  presence  until 
she  had  time  to  recover  her  emotion,  and  to  give 
her  answer  to  the  Due  de  Vittoria's  request. 

Scorning  the  idea  of  waiting  until  her  anger  had 
cooled,  Isabel  declared  she  had  decided  on  her  course 
of  action.  She  would  immediately  abdicate  and  rid 
herself  for  ever  of  a  kingdom  that  had  brought  her 
unending  trouble.  In  hot  haste  she  summoned  the 
Diplomatic  Corps  to  tell  them  of  her  unalterable 
resolution.  She  had  not  found  time  to  change  her 
dressing-gown,  to  dry  her  eyes,  or  to  light  a  cigarette 
before  the  French  Ambassador  arrived.  To  him  she 
poured  out  a  story  of  wrongs  and  insults,  for  which 


212  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

she  in  no  way  considered  herself  to  blame,  and  ended 
by  saying  she  would  leave  Madrid  in  the  morning. 
When  it  was  possible  for  him  to  get  a  hearing,  he 
explained  that  though  she  was  at  liberty  to  abdicate, 
she  could  not  do  so  on  behalf  of  the  Infanta,  whom  she 
would  be  obliged  to  leave  in  the  hands  of  those  who 
would  be  appointed  Regents.  This  consideration  had 
never  occurred  to  her  until  now,  when  it  struck  her  as 
a  blow.  '*  Leave  my  child  ?  "  she  cried  out.  "  I  would 
rather  be  dragged  through  the  streets  than  leave  her." 
On  the  arrival  of  the  other  Ambassadors  at  the  Royal 
palace,  they  were  told  her  Majesty  was  unable  to  see 
them  ;  and  before  evening  a  letter  was  sent  to  General 
Salazar  for  Espartero,  agreeing  to  his  terms,  so  that,  as 
the  Gazelle  Extraordinary  reported,  the  envoy  returned 
to  Logrono  "  fully  satisfied  with  the  interview  he  had 
with  her  Majesty." 

Submitting  to  the  inevitable,  Isabel  now  issued  a 
manifesto  in  which  she  professed  an  absolute  agreement 
with  the  progressive  opinions  of  the  Due  de  Vittoria, 
threw  herself  on  the  protection  of  her  subjects,  and 
eulogised  them  for  "  the  sacrifices  they  had  just  made" 
to  secure  the  liberty  so  dear  to  them.  As  they  were 
well  aware  that  these  sentiments  were  wrung  from  her 
by  necessity,  they  did  not  impose  upon  the  people. 

After  what  seemed  a  long  delay  to  the  impatient,  it 
was  announced  that  Espartero  would  enter  Madrid  on 
July  28th,  1854.     Joyful  preparations  were  made  for 


Zbc  Stor^^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         213 

his  reception.     From  dawn  the  city  was  astir  hanging 
out    its    brightest    draperies,    its    richest   rugs    on   the 
balconies,    hoisting    flags,  enchaining    the  streets    with 
garlands,  and  forming  processions,  the  whole  populace 
seething  with  excitement.     By  ten  o'clock  the  Junta  in 
full   state,   accompanied    by   glittering  lines  of  cavalry 
and  military,  passed  out  from  the  city  to  the  Venta  del 
Espiritu    Santo    to    meet    him.     There    the  President 
delivered  an  address  of  welcome,   to  which  Espartero 
replied,  *'  You  have  called  me  to  strengthen  the  liberties 
of  the  country.     Here  you  have  me,  and  if  the  enemies 
of  our  most  holy  liberty  try  to  take  it  from  us,  I  will 
put  myself  at  the  head  of  all  Spain,  and  I  will  show  you 
the   way    to     glory."      Losing    sight    of    his    need    of 
eloquence  in  the  honesty  of  his  patriotism,  his  words 
were  enthusiastically  received,  and  he  was  led  forward 
to  where  glory   waited  him.     And  no   sooner  did   his 
carriage  pass   through   the   gate   than   he  was  received 
with  a  deafening  roar  of  welcome,  in  answer  to  which 
he  stood  up  and  bowed,  his  figure  soldierly  and  lean, 
his  close-cropped  hair  and  fierce  moustaches  dyed,  his 
brown  wrinkled  face  Ht  with  smiles,  his  heart  stirred 
to  the    core.     Many  gallant  officers  rode  beside  him, 
behind  him  the  National  Militia  marched   in  time  and 
out  of  it  to  the  strains  of  the  Hymn  of  Liberty,  while 
around  him  was  a  surging  mass  of  clamouring,  hilarious 
humanity,    shouting  with    all    their    might,    "  Viva    la 
libertad.     Viva  Espartero." 


214  XCbe  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

In  this  manner  his  slow  way  was  taken  to  the  Royal 
palace,  where  at  the  head  of  the  great  staircase  he  was 
received  by  the  Queen.  Their  interview  was  brief,  and 
in  a  few  moments  he  returned  to  the  waiting  throng. 
As  his  carriage  drove  away,  her  Majesty  and  the  King 
Consort  appeared  on  the  balcony  of  the  palace,  but 
beyond  a  few  cries  of  "  Long  live  liberty.  Long  live 
morality.  Long  live  honesty,"  little  notice  was  taken  of 
the  Sovereign  or  her  spouse.  The  hero  of  the  hour 
was  driven  to  the  Calle  de  Espoz  y  Mina,  which  was 
glowing  with  the  vivid  hues  of  waving  flags  and  flying 
colours.  Entering  the  residence  prepared  for  him,  the 
Casa  de  Mathieu,  he  reappeared  on  the  balcony  to 
thank  the  people  for  their  greeting,  and  beg  that  they 
would   allow  him   to  rest   after  his  fatiguing  journey. 

A  new  Cabinet  was  immediately  formed  under  the 
presidency  of  Espartero,  with  General  O'Donnell  as 
Minister  of  War  and  Captain-General  ;  the  people 
were  persuaded  to  allow  the  barricades  to  be  removed  ; 
the  Queen  was  obliged  to  dismiss  her  Household,  from 
the  Mistress  of  the  Robes  to  the  meanest  scullion, 
neither  long  service  nor  personal  attachment  being 
sufficient  pleas  for  the  retention  of  their  places  ;  and  a 
promise  was  given  in  a  public  letter  that  "  Dona 
Maria  Cristina  de  Bourbon  shall  not  leave  the  city, 
neither  by  day  nor  by  night  nor  furtively."  Two 
things  were  against  her  leaving  it  secretly  :  Cristina's 
firm  resolution,  expressed  in  the  words,  "  I  will  leave 


Ube  Stori^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        275 

Madrid  as  a  Queen,  or  I  will  remain  there,"  and  the 
vigilance  of  the  citizens  in  watching  for  her,  still 
ready  to  tear  her  to  pieces  if  she  fell  into  their 
power.  The  following  paragraph,  taken  from  the 
Camor  Publico,  will  show  how  determined  they  were 
that  she  should  not  escape  them  :  "  Yesterday  it  seems 
that  Dona  Maria  Cristina  was  to  have  taken  her 
departure  for  a  foreign  country,  but  suspended  her 
journey  in  consequence  of  it  being  observed  that  the 
avenues  of  the  palace  leading  to  the  Campo  del  Moro, 
were  watched  by  a  considerable  number  of  armed 
peasants,  who  without  doubt  would  be  happy  to  take 
leave  of  the  Mother  of  the  Spaniards.  Last  night 
a  group  of  from  sixty  to  eighty  men  stopped  and 
searched  near  the  Hospicio  all  the  coaches  which  had 
taken  the  road  to  France  ;  others  traversed  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Pradera  de  Guardias  ;  while 
other  groups  kept  watch  in  different  directions." 

It  was  not  the  mob  alone,  but  the  better  classes 
as  well,  that  wished  to  detain  the  Queen-mother. 
Espartero  had  scarcely  entered  into  power  when  he 
received  a  petition  from  the  members  of  the  Union 
Club,  headed  by  Orense,  Marquis  of  Albayda, 
demanding  that  she  should  be  brought  to  trial  before 
the  Cortes,  and  stating  that  those  who  connived  at 
her  escape  would  be  the  worst  of  traitors.  The 
question  of  her  disposal  became  one  of  extreme 
difficulty  to  the  Government.     So  long  as  she  remained 


2i6  Zhc  IRomance  of  1Ro^alt\? 

in  Madrid  her  name  was  made  a  pretext  for  riot 
and  disorder  ;  so  long  as  she  remained  in  the  palace, 
Isabel  refused  to  leave  it  even  to  take  air  or  exercise, 
and  go  among  her  subjects.  Any  attempt  to  smuggle 
Cristina  out  of  the  city,  even  if  she  agreed  to  it, 
would  probably  cost  the  new  Ministers  their  places 
and  revive  the  late  revolution  ;  while  to  satisfy  the 
populace  by  bringing  the  Sovereign's  mother  to  public 
trial  for  fraud  was  utterly  impossible. 

After  much  deliberation  it  was  decided  that  she 
should  leave  Madrid  by  day,  under  a  strong  miHtary 
escort.  Accordingly,  on  the  morning  of  August  28th, 
long  before  the  city  was  awake,  a  carriage  drawn  by 
four  horses,  together  with  two  squadrons  of  Farnesio's 
regiment  of  cavalry  commanded  by  General  Carrigo, 
entered  the  courtyard  of  the  palace  by  the  eastern 
gate  and  drew  up  in  front  of  the  principal  entrance. 
Those  within  who  had  been  anxiously  awaiting  the 
roll  of  wheels,  started  at  their  sound.  In  the  apart- 
ment where  in  her  childhood  a  bullet  had  whizzed 
above  her  head,  stood  Isabel,  pale  from  sleepless 
nights,  trembling  with  anxiety,  tearful,  and  wrapped 
in  her  eternal  dressing-gown  ;  the  little  King  looking 
frightened,  inoffensive,  and  carefully  brushed ;  Cris- 
tina, dry-eyed,  defiant  and  calm  ;  beside  her  the 
Due  de  Rianzares,  making  efforts  to  imitate  his  wife's 
serene  composure.  With  them  were  Espartero  and 
General  O'Donnell,  in  full  uniform,  helmets  in  hand, 


U\K  Stor\?  ot  Isabel  IL  ot  Spain         217 

uneasy,    dreading    scenes  ;    and    beyond    were    some 
ladles  of  the  Court. 

A  word  from  Espartero  that  all  was  ready,  and 
Cristina,  still  unmoved,  went  forward  and  kissed 
the  King,  and  then  embraced  Isabel,  who  clung 
convulsively  to  her  mother,  sobbed  hysterically,  and 
finally  fainted.  Taking  advantage  of  her  unconscious- 
ness, the  Queen-mother  with  a  haughty  step  walked 
to  the  door,  where,  turning  to  the  courtesying  ladies, 
she  told  them  she  would  shortly  be  back  again  ;  a 
remark  probably  made  for  the  benefit  of  Espartero 
and  General  O'Donnell.  Then,  with  the  former 
walking  beside  her  and  the  latter  towering  behind 
her,  she  descended  the  grand  staircase  with  imperious 
dignity,  and  was  handed  into  the  carriage  by  them. 
When  her  husband  had  taken  his  place  beside  her, 
she  leaned  forward,  and  with  a  smile  that  concealed 
no  fear,  she  curtly  said  adieu  to  the  Generals. 
Espartero  closed  the  door,  beside  which  General 
Carrigo  took  his  place,  firm  and  resolved  to  do  his 
duty  at  all  hazards  ;  a  word  was  spoken,  the  postilions 
cracked  their  whips,  the  escort  closed  up  in  serried 
ranks,  and  with  swift  tramp  and  roll  of  wheel  they 
quitted  the  echoing  courtyard  to  traverse  the  city 
and  take  the  road  to  Portugal,  leaving  by  the  same 
gate  through  which  a  couple  of  weeks  previously  two 
of  Cristina's  daughters  had  passed  in  the  disguise 
of  peasant-girls. 


2i8  XTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alti? 

A  couple  of  hours  later,  when  the  sun  had  well 
mounted  that  dome  of  wondrous  blue  above  Madrid, 
and  its  slumberous  inhabitants  had  begun  to  rouse 
themselves,  a  whisper  spread  swift  as  the  wind  from 
end  to  end  of  the  capital,  that  the  Queen-mother  had 
escaped.  Unwilling  to  believe  it  at  first,  the  people 
ran  from  their  houses,  questioned  each  other  in  shrill 
voices,  gesticulated,  and  threatened.  On  learning 
beyond  doubt  that  she  had  really  left,  their  excitement 
was  intense.  Seething,  infuriated  crowds  gathered  in 
the  squares,  frantic  patriots  rushed  along  the  streets 
calling  on  all  citizens  to  take  up  arms,  in  obedience 
to  which  numbers  invaded  the  gunsmiths  shops,  and 
when  firearms  were  refused  took  them  by  force.  At 
the  same  time  others  began  to  raise  fresh  barricades, 
and  one  of  the  foreign  Ministers,  riding  by,  was  obliged 
to  alight  from  his  carriage  which  was  dragged  away 
amid  cheers  to  form  part  of  one  of  the  bulwarks  of 
liberty.  Before  the  roll  of  drums  announced  to  the 
National  Guard  that  the  city  was  threatened  by  a 
revolution,  the  mob  had  broken  into  shops  and  stolen 
wine,  meat,  and  bread,  which  was  eaten  and  drunk 
between  cries  of  "■  Down  with  the  Government.  Bring 
back  Cristina.     Bring  back  the  robber." 

At  noon  the  republican  nobleman,  Orense,  Marquis 
of  Albaydal,  attended  by  the  members  of  the  Union 
Club  and  followed  by  an  immense  crowd,  waited  on 
the   Due    de   Vittoria   and   demanded  that  he  should 


xrbe  Stors  of  Isabel  ll.  of  Spain        219 

bring  back  "  Dona  Maria  Cristlna."  In  reply  he  was 
told  to  lay  his  complaints  before  the  Council  which  was 
to  sit  that  day.  This  he  did,  still  attended  by  the 
populace.  High  words  passed  between  the  Marquis 
and  O'Donnell,  who  made  a  fervent  speech,  and  then, 
with  Espartero  beside  him,  showed  himself  to  the 
waiting  crowd,  when  they  were  received  with  cries 
to   bring  back  Cristina,  bring  back   the   robber. 

The  Ministry  then  issued  an  address  to  the  people 
saying,  "  The  Government,  the  lover  of  liberty,  loyal 
above  all,  has  faithfully  fulfilled  its  promise  to  the 
citizens  of  Madrid,  that  Dona  Maria  Cristina  '  should 
not  go  away  furtively  neither  by  day  nor  by  night.'  " 
To  this  the  Union  Club  replied  that  "  The  Govern- 
ment did  not  say  that  Dona  Maria  Cristina  '  should 
not  go  away  secretly  neither  by  day  nor  by  night,' 
but  that  Dona  Maria  Cristina  '  should  not  go  away 
neither  by  day  nor  by  night  nor  secretly.'  "  Event- 
ually some  measure  of  peace  was  restored  by  the 
promise  of  the  Government  to  examine  into  the 
charges  of  fraud  brought  against  the  Queen-mother. 
This  investigation  dragged  its  slow  way  over  six 
months,  during  which  popular  indignation  against 
Cristina  had  time  to  cool,  and  to  receive  with  equa- 
nimity the  expected  verdict  that  declared  no  evidence 
of  her  guilt  was  forthcoming. 

Although  the  Queen-mother  felt  convinced  that  she 
should  return  triumphant  once  more   to   Madrid,   its 


220  Zbc  IRoinance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

citizens  took  the  liberty  to  differ  from  her.  As  they 
were  content  to  live  without  the  privilege  of  her 
presence  among  them,  she  took  up  her  residence  first 
in  Portugal,  and  afterwards  in  France,  where  at  her 
residence  at  St.  Adresse,  near  Havre,  she  died  on 
August  2 1  St,  1878,  in  her  seventy-third  year. 
Fernando  Munoz,  who  from  the  lowly  rank  of  a 
private  soldier  had  been  made  a  Spanish  grandee  and 
husband  of  a  Queen,  died  on  September   12th,  1873. 


CHAPTER    III 

The  Queen  Conspires  against  her  Prime  Minister  —  Metternich's 
Description  of  her  Majesty— The  Dovv'nfall  of  Isabel — Her  New 
Favourite,  Carlos  Marfori — The  Romance  of  a  Strolling  Player — 
The  Queen's  Children— The  Workings  of  a  Revolution— The  Due 
de  Montpensier's  Palace  at  Seville — His  Intrigues  for  the  Spanish 
Crown — Banished  from  the  Country — Isabel  leaves  the  Capital — 
Revolt  of  the  Army  and  Navy — The  Favourite's  Dismissal  is 
Demanded  —  Hesitation  and  Anger  — The  Royal  Troops  are 
Overcome— Flight  from  Spain — Interview  with  the  Emperor  and 
Empress  of  the  French  at  the  Biarritz  Railway  Station— Candidates 
for  the  Vacant  Throne— The  Career  of  Don  Enrique— His  Hatred 
and  Abuse  of  Montpensier— Their  Duel  to  the  Death— Montpensier's 
Sorrow  and  Remorse — The  King  Consort  and  his  Nephew — 
Queen  Isabel  Removes  to  Paris — Quarrel  of  the  Royal  Couple — 
Her  Majesty  Formally  Abdicates  in  Favour  of  her  Son — Amadeo, 
Duke  of  Aosta,  is  Elected  King  of  Spain — Assassination  of 
General  Prim — The  New  Sovereign  Enters  Madrid — Attitude  of 
the  Spanish  People  Towards  him — An  Attempt  upon  his  Life — 
He  Determines  to  Abdicate — His  Farewell  Address  to  the  Nation 
— His  Departure  from  Madrid. 

THOSE  who  are  credulous  enough  to  expect 
justice  or  gratitude  in  a  world  where  they  are 
regarded  as  signs  of  weakness  and  antiquity  considered 
that  a  man  who  had  arrested  a  revolution,  placed  the 
Queen-mother  beyond  the  vengeance  of  her  enemies, 
and  achieved  the  more  difficult  task  of  screening  the 
methods    by    which    that    lady    had    enriched    herself, 

331 


222  ^be  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

had  earned  the  loyalty  and  support  of  his  Sovereign. 
But  such  was  Isabel's  fickle  temperament,  her  entire 
lack  of  responsibility,  her  hatred  of  a  man  who  strove 
to  cleanse  her  Court  and  dictate  to  herself,  that  no 
sooner  was  peace  reassured  than  she  entered  into  the 
intrigues  formed  by  his  colleague  and  apparent  friend, 
General  O'Donnell,  to  overthrow  Espartero.  These 
were  successful,  and  in  1856,  after  holding  office  two 
years,  Espartero  was  obliged  to  quit  it.  In  the 
following  year  he  resigned  his  dignity  as  senator, 
and  weary  of  the  world's  ways,  and  with  less  faith 
in  its  truth  and  honour,  he  went  back  to  his  home 
at  Logrono,  to  enjoy  a  peace  incompatible  with  that 
of  governing  his  unhappy  country. 

He  was  succeeded  as  Prime  Minister  by  O'Donnell, 
whom  the  Queen  detested  as  fully  as  she  had  dreaded 
Espartero  ;  a  fact  that  helps  to  explain  O'Donnell's 
brief  retention  of  his  position.  For  scarce  had  he 
been  three  months  at  the  head  of  affairs,  when  he  was 
supplanted  by  Narvaez,  who  in  turn  was  overthrown 
by  O'Donnell  two  years  later.  No  stability  of 
Government,  no  peace  for  the  country,  no  progress 
for  the  people,  could  be  expected  during  the  reign 
of  a  woman  who  was  wisely  described  by  Metternich 
as  '*  La  revolution  iyicarnee  dans  sa  forme  la  plus 
danger euse.""  The  cause,  from  her  birth  to  the  last 
day  of  her  reign,  of  civil  war,  revolutionary  movements, 
bloodshed,    cruelty,    and    incalculable    misery    to    her 


XTbe  Stor^  ot  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        223 

people,  it  was  no  wonder  that  their  loyalty  turned 
to  hate,  their  pity  to  scorn.  Finally  they  flung  her 
from  the  throne  in  1868,  after  a  reign  of  twenty-five 
years  of  wretchedness  and  degradation  to  the  nation. 

The  causes  which  led  to  her  dethronement  were 
not  merely  the  favour  she  showed  to  reactionary 
measures,  her  sanction  of  arbitrary  and  oppressive  laws, 
her  irresponsible  character,  and  her  dislike  and  fear 
of  all  progressive  movements,  but  to  her  open  and 
unashamed  attachment  to  a  new  favourite,  the  son 
of  an  Italian  cook,  named  Carlos  Marfori,  who,  once 
a  strolling  player,  afterwards  obtained  through  General 
Narvaez  a  small  post  in  the  civil  service.  A  man  of 
fine  presence  and  aspiring  intentions,  he  became  a 
deputy  counsellor  in  the  administration  of  various 
financial  associations,  so  that  by  degrees  he  gained 
political  influence.  In  1866  his  patron  Narvaez 
appointed  him  Governor  of  Madrid  and  Chief  of 
the  Royal  Household.  This  latter  position  gave  her 
Majesty,  who  had  already  looked  on  him  with  favour, 
the  desired  opportunity  of  having  him  constantly  in 
her  presence  ;  when  swollen  with  insolent  pride,  he 
strutted  about  the  Royal  apartments  with  the  dignified 
bearing  of  one  accustomed  to  palaces  of  painted 
canvas,  his  manner  marked  by  the  sweeping  command 
of  monarchs  crowned  with  pasteboard.^ 

Mimicked  behind  his  broad  back  by  those  less 
fortunate  and    not  more   virtuous,  and   scofi^ed   at   by 


2  24  Zbc  IRotnance  of  IRo^alt^ 

the  public  who  saw  him  occupy  a  seat  in  the  Royal 
carriage  opposite  his  King  and  Queen,  he  was  loaded 
with  riches  and  honours  by  the  middle-aged  woman 
who  adored  him,  and  who  raised  him  to  be  Marquis 
de  Loja.  Her  husband's  philosophic  tolerance  towards 
the  long  line  of  her  favourites  was  graciously  extended 
to  Marfori  ;  what  opinion  her  Majesty's  children 
formed  of  his  relationship  with  their  mother  must 
be  left  to  the  imagination.  Of  the  eight  to  which 
she  gave  birth,  four  lived.     These  were  : 

Isabel,  Princess  of  the  Asturias,  born  in  1851,  and 
married  in  1868  to  Prince  Gaetan  de  Bourbon-Sicile, 
Comte  de  Girgenti,  and  brother  of  the  King  of 
Naples. 

Alfonso,  born  in  1857,  destined  to  rule  as 
Alfonso  XII.,  and  to  marry  in  1878  his  cousin 
Mercedes,  daughter  of  the  Due  de   Montpensier. 

The  Infanta  Maria  de  la  Plaz,  born  in  1862,  and 
married  in  1883  to  Prince  Louis  Ferdinand  of 
Bavaria  ;  and 

The  Infanta  Eulalie,  born  in  1864,  and  married  in 
1886  to  her  cousin  Antoine  Louis  Philippe  Marie, 
Prince  d'Orleans-Bourbon,  only  surviving  son  of  the 
Due  de  Montpensier. 

Isabel's  inglorious  reign  was  brought  to  an  end 
in  a  dramatic  manner  befitting  her  volcanic  career.  In 
April,  1868,  the  province  of  Catalonia,  long  seething 
in    discontent,   set   an  example   to   Spain    by  rising  in 


Ubc  Stoi'i?  of  Isabel  ll,  of  Spain        225 

insurrection  and  placing  itself  in  a  state  of  siege.  On 
the  23rd  of  that  month,  General  Narvaez,  then  Prime 
Minister  died,  and  his  Ministry  resigned.  A  new 
Cabinet  was  formed  under  Gonzales  Brabo,  of  which 
Marfori  was  a  prominent  member.  In  July  several 
Generals  suspected  of  opposition  to  this  reactionary 
and  arbitrary  Government  were  arrested,  and  without 
any  form  of  trial  banished  to  the  Canary  or  the 
Balearic  Isles.  Among  these  was  Francisco  Serrano 
y  Dominguez,  who  had  the  distinction  of  being 
the  favourite  of  Isabel's  early  married  life,  and  who 
had  then  been  known  as  "  the  influence."  Having 
returned  to  Spain  in  1862  from  Cuba,  where  he 
held  the  post  of  Captain-General,  he  concerned  him- 
self with  politics,  and  in  1866  became  President  of 
the  Senate. 

Almost  simultaneously  with  the  decree  banishing 
the  Generals,  another  was  issued  ordering  the  Due 
de  Montpensier  and  his  family  to  leave  Spain.  After 
his  marriage  he  and  his  wife  had  taken  up  their 
residence  in  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries,  which  they 
were  obliged  to  quit  when  the  French  Revolution 
of  1848  drove  his  father,  Louis  Philippe,  from  the 
throne.  Returning  to  Spain,  much  to  the  chagrin 
of  the  Spaniards,  they  were  given  the  Royal  palace 
of  San  Telmo,  in  Seville,  as  their  home.  This  palace, 
formerly  a  nautical  college  founded  by  Fernando,  son 
of  Columbus,  and  afterwards  rebuilt,  has,  because  of 

VOL.  I.  15 


226  Ube  IRomance  ot  IRo^altg 

its  Churrigueresque  facade,  its  immense  pleasure- 
grounds  planted  with  palms  and  orange-trees,  its 
magnificent  picture-gallery  and  museum,  been  described 
as  an  earthly  paradise. 

Not  only  did  Isabel  give  the  Due  de  Montpensier 
this  residence,  but  besides  various  honorary  appoint- 
ments, she  made  him  Captain-General  of  the  Spanish 
Army  in  1858;  and  in  the  following  year  conceded 
him  the  honours  due  to  the  Infantes  of  Spain.  Occa- 
sionally visiting  the  Court  at  Madrid,  he  chiefly  lived 
at  Seville,  where  he  enlivened  the  monotony  of  his 
domestic  life  by  secretly  and  half-heartedly  intriguing 
against  Isabel,  whose  throne  he  desired  to  occupy. 
The  knowledge  or  supposition  of  these  underhand 
schemes  led  to  his  order  of  banishment.  This  he 
refused  to  obey,  on  the  ground  that  as  one  to  whom 
the  dignity  of  Infante  of  Spain  had  been  granted,  he 
could  receive  orders  only  from  the  Spanish  Sovereign. 
In  quick  time  a  decree  of  banishment  signed  by  Isabel 
was  handed  to  him,  and  at  the  same  moment  he  was 
told  that  a  Spanish  ship  of  war,  the  Villa  de  Madrid^ 
was  waiting  to  convey  him  to  Portugal.  With  a  show 
of  honour  due  to  the  rank  he  claimed,  he  was  con- 
ducted on  board  by  the  Captain-General  of  Andalucia. 
Before  the  latter  had  time  to  leave  the  ship,  its  captain 
found  an  opportunity  to  whisper  in  Montpensier's  ear, 
*'  Say  but  the  word  and  the  Captain-General  shall 
remain  a  prisoner  on   board,  and  we  will   sail  to  the 


XTbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  IL  ot  Spain        227 

Canary  Isles  and  bring  back  the  banished  Generals." 
But  the  Due,  who  was  not  a  man  of  enterprise,  and 
who  had  no  desire  to  play  a  public  part  in  bringing 
about  the  revolution  he  desired,  refused  to  say  the 
word,  and  preferred  to  let  events  take  their  promising 
course. 

Undismayed  by  the  dark  clouds  gathering  around 
her,  Isabel,  taking  with  her  the  King  and  Marfori, 
left  Madrid  that  she  might  enjoy  the  invigorating 
sea  breezes  of  San  Sebastian.  Almost  on  the  same 
date  as  her  departure.  General  Prim  quitted  England, 
where  he  had  been  in  exile,  and  reached  Cadiz  on 
the  17th  of  the  month.  On  the  following  day  the 
Spanish  fleet  at  that  port,  under  the  command  of 
Admiral  Topete,  together  with  the  garrison  of  the 
city,  declared  for  the  revolution.  A  day  later 
the  ship  which  had  been  sent  to  bring  back  the 
banished  Generals,  arrived  in  the  harbour  amidst  the 
most  enthusiastic  signs  of  rejoicing.  At  this  point 
the  Government  resigned,  and  General  Concha  was 
appointed  Prime  Minister  by  the  Queen.  Civil  war 
broke  out  and  severe  fights  took  place  at  Burgos  and 
Cordova,  but  in  an  incredibly  short  time  town  after 
town  and  province  after  province  joined  the  revolution. 
The  last  attempt  to  combat  it  was  made  at  the  bridge 
of  Alcolea,  about  fifteen  miles  from  Cordova,  when  an 
engagement  took  place  between  the  insurgent  troops 
under  General  Serrano,  and  the   Royal  troops  led  by 


2  28  TTbe  IRomance  of  IRoi^alt^ 

the  Marquis  de  Novaliches.  Here  the  Royalist 
army  was  defeated,  and  their  leader  received  a  wound 
from  which  he  died  soon  after. 

Before  the  revolt  had  become  general,  the  Prime 
Minister  had  telegraphed  to  the  Queen,  urging  her 
to  return  without  delay  to  the  capital,  but  warning 
her  to  leave  Marfori  behind  ;  for  with  this  man 
beside  her,  outrages  might  be  committed  for  which 
Concha  would  not  hold  himself  responsible.  Indignant 
at  this  cruel  stipulation,  with  which  she  was  unwilling 
to  comply,  she  turned  for  counsel  to  Napoleon,  then 
her  neighbour  at  Biarritz,  who  assured  her,  that  only 
by  the  dismissal  of  the  favourite  could  she  hope  to 
retain  her  throne.  Isabel,  who  never  lacked  courage, 
and  who  to  the  last  cherished  the  delusion  that  she 
was  still  beloved  by  her  long-suffering  subjects,  was 
ready  to  throw  herself  on  their  protection,  but  she 
was  unwilling  to  submit  to  the  condition  which  she 
knew  they  would  demand — her  separation  from 
Marfori.  And  much  as  she  valued  her  position  as 
a  Sovereign,  and  the  homage,  wealth,  and  influence  it 
entailed,  at  that  moment  it  seemed  to  her  infatuated 
mind  that  the  crown  of  Spain,  nay,  life  itself,  would 
be  worthless  without  the  man  she  worshipped — for 
the  time  being. 

Torn  in  the  conflict  between  common  sense  and 
passion,  sleepless,  distracted  by  the  disastrous  news 
that  hourly  reached  her,  and  overwhelmed  by  indigna- 


Ube  StovQ  ot  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        229 

tion,  she  wept,  threatened,  and  raged.  In  one  of  her 
telegrams  to  the  Prime  Minister  she  had  said  :  "  I 
remain  at  San  Sebastian  and  shall  continue  to  remain 
until  these  brigands  are  conquered.  Should  they 
succeed,  I  shall  withdraw  to  France  delighted  at  having 
rid  myself  of  a  nation  of  thieves  and  assassins."  Not- 
withstanding this  message,  despatched  in  a  moment 
of  fury,  she  was  yet  hesitating  between  Marfori  and 
the  crown  when  news  reached  her  of  the  defeat  of 
the  last  handful  of  troops  that  had  remained  faithful 
to  her,  led  by  the  man  she  once  had  loved.  She  knew 
then  that  the  hour  for  her  return  to  Madrid  had 
passed,  and  that  nothing  remained  for  her  but  flight 
from  the  country  she  had  misgoverned. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  September  30th,  1868, 
she  was  ready  to  take  her  departure  in  the  special 
train  ordered  for  her.  The  spectacle  she  presented 
was  too  pitiable  for  comedy.  With  her  round 
heavy  face  swollen  from  sleeplessness  and  tears, 
surmounted  by  a  Httle  straw  hat  with  a  nodding  red 
feather,  with  her  dress  in  disorder,  her  hands  without 
gloves,  her  skirts  distended  by  a  swinging  crinoline, 
she  reached  the  station  ;  beside  her  the  King  Consort, 
neat  in  his  dress,  circumspect  in  his  manner,  melancholy 
resignation  expressed  in  his  serene  small  features ; 
while  behind  them,  robust,  commanding,  with  the 
sublime  strut  of  a  hero  basking  in  the  limelight, 
walked     Marfori.      The    rear    was    brought     up    by 


H°  Ube  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

attendants  and  a  few  halberdiers  in  their  picturesque 
uniform.  Their  Majesties  and  the  favourite  entered 
one  carriage,  the  suite  occupied  several  others.  No 
time  was  to  be  lost,  and  no  sooner  had  they  taken  their 
places  than  the  train  fled  with  a  shriek  from  the  station. 
With  the  uncertainty  of  the  future  stretching  grey 
before  her,  Isabel  bewailed  her  position,  raged  against 
her  enemies,  and  fondly  gazed  at  the  country  which 
she  was  leaving,  perhaps  for  ever. 

By   eleven  o'clock,  the   time  she   reached    the  little 

frontier  town  of  Hendaye,  the  Queen  had  sufficiently 

recovered  herself  to  enjoy  a  hearty    breakfast.     Here 

she  was  met  by  three  officers  of  the  Imperial  Household, 

graciously  sent  by  Napoleon  to  receive  her  on  French 

territory,   and   here  all  the   Spanish  officials  who    had 

accompanied  her,   together  with   the  halberdiers,  took 

leave  of  their  Sovereign,  a  farewell  that  again  plunged 

her  into  tears.     On  arriving  a  little  later  at  Biarritz, 

she    was   met    at    the    station    by    the    Emperor    and 

Empress  of  the  French,  the  Prince  Imperial,  and  the 

members    of  the    Imperial     Household  ;     the    French 

Sovereigns  being  anxious  to  show  their  sympathy  with 

the  dethroned  monarch,  little  imagining  that  their  fate 

would  some  day  be  as  hers.     Eugenie,  who  had  once 

been  a  member  of  the  Spanish  Court,  felt  profoundly 

grateful    to   Isabel,    who    had    been    one    of   the    first 

Sovereigns  to  acknowledge  her  as  an  Empress  ;  while 

Napoleon  showed  his  sympathy  for  the  Spanish  Queen 


tTbe  Stori5  ot  Isabel  II.  ot  ^pain        231 

by  placing  at  her  disposal  the  castle  of  Pau,  for  which 
she  was  now  en  route. 

On  October  3rd  Marshal  Serrano  entered  Madrid 
at  the  head  of  the  revolutionary  troops  to  meet 
with  an  overwhelmingly  enthusiastic  reception.  Amidst 
the  delirious  joy  shown  by  the  people  not  one  dis- 
senting voice  was  heard  to  deplore  the  downfall  of  the 
worst  Government  in  Europe.  A  Provisional  Ministry 
was  formed  without  loss  of  time,  which  stated  in  the 
circular  it  issued  that  it  "  took  in  hands  the  reins  of 
the  State  in  order  to  lead  the  nation  to  liberty,  and  not 
allow  it  to  perish  in  anarchy."  Though  the  Spanish 
people  were  determined  never  to  permit  the  Queen 
who  had  wrought  such  havoc  to  the  nation,  or  any 
of  her  children,  to  reign  over  them,  it  seemed  to  the 
greater  number  that  it  were  best  they  should  be  ruled 
by  a  Sovereign  who  would  preserve  the  constitutional 
rights.  Therefore  the  Provisional  Ministry,  with 
Marshal  Serrano  at  its  head,  issued  a  manifesto  which 
said  : — 

*'  The  monarchical  form  is  imposed  upon  us  by 
the  exigencies  of  the  revolution  and  the  necessity  of 
consolidating  the  liberties  we  have  acquired.  Mon- 
archy by  Divine  right  is  for  ever  dead.  Our  future 
monarchy,  in  deriving  its  origin  from  popular  rights, 
will  be  a  consecration  of  universal  suffrage.  It  will 
symbolise  the  national  sovereignty  and  consolidate 
public  liberty,  the  right  of  the  people  being  superior 


232  trbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

to  all  institutions,  and  powers.  This  monarchy,  sur- 
rounded by  democratic  institutions,  cannot  fail  to  be 
popular." 

Various  candidates  for  the  vacant  throne  were 
proposed  by  the  Government  or  suggested  by  their 
partisans.  Among  them  were  Don  Carlos,  grandson 
of  the  original  claimant,  who  raising  the  flag  of  revolt, 
once  more  deluged  the  country  with  blood  before  he 
could  be  overcome  ;  Don  Baldomero  Espartero,  Due  de 
Vittoria,  who  promptly  and  wisely  declined  the  honour 
which  it  was  proposed  to  thrust  upon  him  ;  Prince 
Thomas  of  Savoy,  Duke  of  Genoa,  then  a  schoolboy  at 
Harrow,  who  was  withdrawn  from  the  candidature  by 
his  guardian  and  uncle,  Victor  Emanuel,  King  of  Italy  ; 
Prince  Frederick,  of  Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen,  who 
was  also  withdrawn  from  the  list  by  his  father,  Prince 
Antony  ;  Prince  Louis  Auguste  Marie  de  Saxe-Coburg- 
Gotha  ;  the  Duchesse  de  Montpensier ;  the  King  of 
Portugal  ;  and  Prince  Amadeo,  Duke  of  Aosta,  second 
son  of  Victor  Emanuel. 

Beside  these  were  two  aspirants  for  the  sovereignty 
who  desired  it  more  eagerly  than  all  others.  These 
were  the  Due  de  Montpensier  and  Don  Enrique, 
brother  of  the  King  Consort.  No  sooner  had  the 
revolution  overthrown  Isabel,  than  the  Due  de  Mont- 
pensier secretly  returned  to  his  palace  of  San  Telmo  at 
Seville,  where  he  began  to  intrigue  more  actively  than 
before  for  the  crown.     Though  keenly  ambitious,  he 


DON    ENRIQUE. 


[Facing  page  232. 


Ubc  £jtor\?  of  Isabel  IL  of  Spain        233 

was  irresolute,  cautious,  and  weak,  a  temperament  that 
fitted  him  for  failure.  Careful  at  first  to  have  it 
thought  that  he  had  no  part  in  bringing  about  the 
downfiiU  of  the  monarchy,  he  no  sooner  saw  that  an 
opposite  opifiion  might  better  suit  his  purpose  than  he 
desired  it  to  be  known  that  he  had  been  prominent 
in  achieving  it. 

Like  his  father,  he  was  very  careful  of  his  money, 
and  soon  became  troublesome  in  demanding  from  the 
Republican  leaders  either  the  return  of  his  gold  which 
had  aided  their  projects,  or  its  equivalent  in  their 
support  of  his  candidature  for  the  throne.  Those 
unfriendly  to  him  remarked  that  he  had  not  resigned 
his  highly  remunerated  post  as  Captain-General  of 
Spain,  though  he  had  conspired  against  the  woman 
to  whom  he  owed  it.  Desiring  to  draw  nearer  to  the 
scene  of  action,  to  keep  in  closer  touch  with  the  chief 
moulders  of  the  destinies  of  Spain, — Marshal  Serrano, 
now  Regent,  and  General  Prim,  President  of  the 
Council — the  Due  de  Montpensier,  leaving  his  wife  and 
family  at  Seville,  took  up  his  residence  in  Madrid. 
Here  he  came  face  to  face  with  Don  Enrique  in  a 
rivalry  that  ended  in  tragedy. 

Don  Enrique,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  been 
proposed  as  a  husband  for  Isabel  or  for  her  sister, 
but  had  been  objected  to  and  set  aside  by  the  Queen- 
mother.  When  in  the  early  months  of  Isabel's 
married   fife,   Cristina  retired  in  indignation  from  the 


234  ftbe  H^omance  of  IRo^ait^ 

Court,  Don  Enrique  added  to  her  mortification  and 
his  own  enjoyment  by  appearing  there.  Bright  and 
breezy  in  his  manner,  free  spoken,  and  rather 
turbulent,  delighting  to  outrage  the  stiff  etiquette 
expected  of  his  rank  and  to  indulge  in  pranks,  he 
became  the  life  of  the  Royal  circle,  and  a  good  comrade 
of  his  sister-in-law,  with  whom  he  had  much  in 
common.  From  being  a  Vice-Admiral  he  was  made 
Admiral  of  the  Spanish  Fleet,  and  created  Due  de 
Seville. 

It  is  possible  that  in  time  he  might  have  filled  the 
highest  offices  of  State,  had  he  not  fallen  desperately 
in  love  with  a  young  and  beautiful  Spanish  girl  who 
was  not  of  Royal  blood,  a  union  with  whom  would 
therefore  be  regarded  by  his  family  as  a  mesalliance. 
This  decision  was  not  to  be  overcome  even  by  the 
fact  that  her  names  were  Helena  de  Castelvi  y  Shelly 
Fernandez  de  Cordova.  That  he  should  bind  himself 
by  a  legal  tie  to  one  beneath  him  in  rank,  seemed 
preposterous  to  Queen  Isabel  and  her  husband,  who 
reasoned,  argued,  and  suggested  alternatives  in  vain  ; 
for  always  headstrong  and  never  conventional,  he  was 
determined  to  have  his  way.  If  this  was  not  permitted 
to  him  in  Spain,  it  could  not  be  prevented  in  other 
countries.  The  result  was  that  Dona  Helena  went 
to  Rome,  where  he  followed  and  made  her  his 
wife.  From  that  time  he  fell  into  disfavour  with  the 
Court,  where  his  wife   could   not   be  received    as    the 


tbc  Story  ot  Isabel  IL  ot  Spain        235 

sister-in-law  of  her  Sovereign.  Unwilling  that  the 
woman  he  loved  and  honoured  should  suffer  sHghts, 
he  resigned  his  post  as  Admiral  of  the  Fleet,  quitted 
Spain,  and  took  up  his  residence  in  Paris. 

Absence  from  his  country  did  not  prevent  him  from 
taking  an  interest  in  its  politics.  Adopting  republican 
views,  he  carried  on  a  violent  opposition  to  the  re- 
actionary Spanish  Government,  in  return  for  which 
he  was  in  1867  deprived  of  his  dignity  of  Infante  of 
Spain.  When,  as  a  consequence  of  the  revolution  in 
the  following  year,  all  members  of  the  Royal  Family 
were  expelled,  he  claimed  exemption  from  this  banish- 
ment because  he  had  been  shorn  of  his  Royal  birth- 
rights ;  and  before  any  decision  could  be  arrived  at 
regarding  the  question,  he  had  established  himself  in 
Madrid.  Here  he  immediately  began  to  promulgate 
republican  doctrines,  and  to  combat  the  establishment 
of  a  monarchical  form  of  Government.  In  the  flaming 
pamphlets  proclaiming  his  views  with  which  he  flooded 
the  capital,  he  was  valiant  enough  to  promise  his 
services  in  any  capacity  to  a  republic,  that  of  President 
not  excepted.  There  were  cynical  persons  who 
smiled  at  this  gracious  oft'er,  remembering  how  short 
the  step  between  the  Presidency  and  the  Throne 
had  been  for  Napoleon. 

Among  all  the  candidates  to  the  crown  of  Spain, 
he  most  hated,  most  bitterly  reviled,  the  Due  de 
Montpensier.     In  the  seething  pamphlets  he  published 


236  tlbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alti? 

almost  daily,  Don  Enrique  denounced  Montpensier 
as  a  hypocrite,  described  him  as  a  second  Cain,  and 
declared  he  had  spent  his  money  in  dethroning  Queen 
Isabel  solely  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  succeed 
her.  He  also  reminded  the  public  that  their  idol 
General  Prim,  whose  favour  Montpensier  pretended 
to  have  gained,  had  openly  declared  that  the  nation's 
choice  of  a  King  would  always  be  in  the  nation's 
hands,  and  that  Don  Antonio  de  Bourbon  (the  Due 
de  Montpensier)  had  not  a  friend  or  partisan  in  the 
Cabinet.  These  repeated  attacks  failed  for  a  time 
to  stir  their  object  to  active  resentment.  A  man 
physically  rotund,  he  had  the  peaceful  disposition 
that  accompanies  obesity.  Eventually  a  limit  was 
found  beyond  which  the  tolerance  of  his  cautious  and 
peace-loving  nature  could  not  stretch.  That  which 
roused  him  was  a  letter  from  Don  Enrique  published 
in  the  newspapers  of  Madrid. 

Among  other  things,  the  writer  said  :  "It  matters 
not  if  I  provoke  the  anger  and  underhand  vindictive 
designs  of  those  who  have  degraded  themselves  by 
kissing,  while  they  weigh  it,  Montpensierist  money." 
At  all  risks  he  would  disclose  facts,  one  of  which 
was  that  "  this  Prince,  as  crafty  as  his  Jesuitical 
ancestors,  whose  infamous  conduct  is  so  clearly  described 
in  the  history  of  France,  would  have  had  himself 
proclaimed  King  of  Spain  in  the  waters  of  Cadiz,  if 
an  illustrious   comrade  of   mine  in  the  navy  had  not 


Jlhc  Stoves  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        237 

refused  to  stain  his  uniform  by  breaking  discipline, 
and  had  not  repelled  with  as  much  energy  as  dignity 
the  greatest  treason  known  to  modern  times."  Don 
Enrique  concluded  by  saying  :  "  If  the  Due  de  Mont- 
pensier  should  carry  out  his  menace  to  be  King  or 
Regent  by  secret  conspiracy,  I  will  join  those  who 
will  combat  him,  and  shed  my  last  drop  of  blood 
against  such  treason." 

This  letter  was  published  on  March  7th,  1870. 
On  reading  it  the  Due  de  Montpensier's  anger,  long 
in  kindling,  flamed  in  fury.  But  before  challenging 
his  enemy  he  wrote  asking  him  either  to  retract  or 
to  disown  the  statements  made  in  this  letter.  Don 
Enrique  replied  by  sending  him  a  copy  of  it  signed 
by  his  own  hand.  This  fresh  and  wanton  insult 
made  a  duel  seem  inevitable  ;  and  Montpensier  asked 
General  Cordoba,  Director-General  of  Infantry,  and 
General  Alaminos  to  act  as  his  seconds.  Both  urged 
him  to  overlook  the  words  of  one  whose  rashness  and 
extravagance  of  speech  were  too  well  known  to  carry 
weight ;  but  the  Due  thought  himself  bound  to  defend 
his  honour  by  sacrificing  his  life  or  taking  that  of 
his  reviler.  They  then  waited  on  Don  Enrique,  who 
received  them  with  ostentatious  delight  and  profuse 
welcomes.  Their  proposal  that  a  friendly  settlement 
might  be  made  was  declined  and  ridiculed  by  him, 
and  no  argument  they  could  use  to  prevent  the  duel 
was    accepted.       Seeing    that    he   was   determined   on 


238  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

fighting,  they  asked  him,  as  the  challenged,  what 
weapons  he  preferred.  He  selected  pistols  as  the 
surest  means  of  killing. 

No  sooner  had  they  left  him  than  Don  Enrique 
went  in  search  of  seconds  who  would  arrange  pre- 
liminaries with  those  of  Montpensier.  These  he 
found  it  more  difficult  to  secure  than  he  had  expected  ; 
for  his  recklessness  being  well  known  to  his  friends, 
many  of  them  declined  to  act  for  him  in  this  affair. 
Ultimately  three  Republicans  consented  to  become  his 
seconds,  Senores  Santamaria,  Oritz,  and  Rubis,  the 
latter  a  surgeon.  The  duel  was  fixed  to  take  place 
on  Saturday,  March  I2th,  1870,  and  during  the  five 
intervening  days  it  became  a  topic  of  general  discussion, 
an  event  looked  forward  to  with  interest.  No  effort 
was  made  by  the  authorities  to  prevent  it  taking 
place,  though  noise  of  it  cannot  but  have  reached 
their  ears,  considering  that  it  spread  to  Seville.  From 
there  the  Duchesse  de  Montpensier  telegraphed  to 
her  husband  beseeching  him  not  to  fight  ;  one  of 
her  entreaties  taking  the  terse  form  :  "  Do  not  fight 
him ;  despise  him."  Ambiguous  answers  were  re- 
turned, that  led  her  to  believe  her  wishes  would 
be  obeyed. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  this  date,  the  beginning 
of  a  chill  day,  the  combatants  took  their  way — which 
one  of  them  was  never  to  retrace — to  a  field  used 
for  the  double  purpose  ot  exercising  the  artillery  and 


Zbc  Stors  ot  Isabel  IL  of  Spain        239 

of  fighting  duels,  near  the  little  village  of  Alcorion 
three  miles  outside  Madrid.  Wind  swept,  dreary, 
without  a  tree  or  house  in  sight,  surrounded  by 
rugged,  interminable  plains,  without  a  blade  of  grass 
to  relieve  their  dull  aridness  at  this  time  of  year, 
the  cold  whiteness  of  the  snow-covered  Guadarrama 
mountains  in  sight,  this  barren  and  trampled  space 
is  a  spot  specially  suited  for  its  purpose — a  place 
where  men  meet  death. 

Beside  the  combatants,  their  friends  and  their  seconds, 
a  fair  number  of  military  men,  idlers  from  the  clubs, 
and  some  politicians  had  been  drawn  to  the  field  by 
curiosity  to  see  two  Bourbon  Princes,  cousins,  fight  to 
the  death.  Muffled  from  the  raw  air  in  heavy  cloaks, 
smoking  cigarettes,  they  stood  apart  from  the  central 
figures,  watchful,  while  the  final  arrangements  were 
being  made.  Don  Enrique,  brisk  and  restless,  had 
plentiful  words  for  those  he  knew ;  the  Due  de 
Montpensier,  near-sighted  and  reserved,  seemed  serious 
and  depressed.  Lots  were  drawn  for  choice  of  ground, 
and  they  fell  to  Don  Enrique  ;  when  a  second  time 
he  won  the  lots  giving  him  the  advantage  of  firing 
first,  it  appeared  to  foreshadow  the  favour  of  fate.  His 
spirits  rose  and  he  looked  forward  to  victory,  that  is 
to  the  slaying  of  his  kinsman. 

The  method  of  fighting  agreed  upon  was  that  the 
adversaries  were  to  place  themselves  ten  metres  apart, 
and  were  to  draw  nearer  one  metre  after  exchanging 


240  ZTbe  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

shots,  until  one  of  them  should  fall.  The  signal  to 
fire  was  three  distinct  claps  of  the  hands  by  one  of 
the  seconds,  with  a  pause  between  each  clap,  which 
meant  make  ready  ;  present  ;  fire.  Don  Enrique,  who 
took  his  place  with  great  coolness,  fired  his  first  shot 
into  the  air,  not  it  would  seem,  in  any  pacific  spirit, 
but  to  show  that  he  played  with  his  enemy,  who  was 
honourable  enough  to  fire  upwards  in  return.  On 
drawing  nearer,  Don  Enrique  showed  some  excitement 
and  fired  rather  wildly,  but  his  aim  was  sufficiently 
good  to  send  a  ball  whizzing  past  Montpensier's  right 
ear.  When  the  latter  fired  in  return,  his  ball  struck 
the  butt  end  of  his  antagonist's  pistol,  and  then  splitting 
in  two,  one  half  the  ball  struck  Enrique's  collar,  the 
other  his  left  shoulder,  but  without  piercing  the 
cloth. 

Even  at  this  stage  when  honour  might  have  seemed 
satisfied,  no  effbrt  was  made  to  end  the  duel.  Before 
firing  the  third  shot,  Enrique  called  one  of  his  seconds, 
Fernando  Rubis,  aside,  and  gave  him  his  watch  and 
some  private  messages  for  his  family,  saying  at  the 
same  time,  "  Montpensier  is  a  better  shot  than  I  ex- 
pected, and  if  I  don't  kill  him  this  time,  I  have  a 
presentment  that  he  will  kill  me."  Placing  himself 
in  attitude  once  more,  he  fired,  but  failed  to  hit  the 
man  he  hated.  Montpensier,  whose  slow  blood  was 
now  stirred  to  anger,  with  deliberate  coolness  then 
took  aim  and  fired.     At  the  same  instant  Don  Enrique 


tXbe  Stor\?  of  Isabel  ll.  of  Spain        241 

fell  backwards  with  a  heavy,  dull  thud.  A  wound 
between  the  right  temple  and  the  ear  showed  where 
the  bullet  had  entered.     Death  was  instantaneous. 

A  glance  at  his  fixed,  glassy  eyes,  at  the  open  mouth 
through  which  his  last  breath  had  just  passed,  sent  a 
shudder  of  horror  through  Montpensier,  who  in  an 
effort  to  preserve  his  presence  of  mind,  thrust  his 
handkerchief  into  his  mouth  and  bit  it,  as  he  did 
also  one  of  his  fingers,  until  the  blood  came.  Then 
trembling  and  bewildered  he  was  led  to  his  carriage, 
his  condition  being  so  serious  that  Don  Fernando 
Rubis  thought  it  necessary  to  accompany  him.  On 
reaching  his  house  in  the  Calle  Fuencarrel,  Montpensier, 
who  had  shown  great  agony  of  mind,  was  unable  to 
leave  his  carriage  unaided ;  and  as  he  was  found  to 
be  in  a  high  fever,  he  was  put  to  bed  and  the  remedy 
at  that  time  prescribed  in  Spain  for  his  ailment 
copious  bleeding  was  at  once  applied. 

No  sooner  had  that  limp  figure  been  carried  from 
the  field,  no  sooner  had  it  been  deserted  by  those 
who  regarded  slaughter  as  sport,  than  the  police, 
known  in  Madrid  by  the  euphemism  of  "  agents  of 
public  order,"  entered  it,  apparently  intent  on  pre- 
venting the  duel.  They  had,  it  was  explained,  un- 
fortunately lost  much  precious  time  in  searching  for 
the  combatants  in  their  respective  houses,  and  after- 
wards in  discovering  and  reaching  the  spot  where 
they  fought.     Don  Enrique's  body  was  taken  to    his 

VOL.     I.  16 


242  tTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

house  In  Madrid,  on  the  door  of  which  was  placed  an 
inscription  saying,  "  Here  lived  a  Bourbon,  the  only- 
loyal  one  of  his  race,  who  for  speaking  the  truth  died 
on  the  field  of  honour.  R.I. P." 

His  wife  was  no  longer  living  to  mourn  his  loss  ; 
but  four  children  survived  him.     The  eldest  of  these, 
Don  Enrique,  a  lad  of  twenty  serving  in  the  Spanish 
army,  was   in   the  garrison   of  Madrid  when  the  duel 
was   fought.      Overwhelmed   by  grief,    he  telegraphed 
the  news  to  his  uncle  the  King  Consort,  then  in  Paris, 
who  immediately  rephed :   "  You  know  how  much    I 
feel  the  misfortune  with  which  you  have  been  visited. 
If    it    can    afford    you    any    consolation,    know    that 
from     this    time    you    will    find    in    me    the   paternal 
affection  which  you  have  lost,  and  which  I  desire  to 
replace."     To  this  young  Don  Enrique  replied  :    "  I 
am  in  desolation.     I  know  not  what  to  do.     Advise." 
The  answer  was  :    "  Perform  your  duty.     Attend  the 
funeral   and  then   come   at   once   to  Paris.      My  arms 
are  open  to  you."     At  the  same  time  the  King  Consort 
called   at    the  convent    school    where  his    nieces    were 
being  educated,  and   broke  the  news  of  their  father's 
death    to    these    orphans.     In    his  grief  and  remorse, 
the  Due  de  Montpensier  offered  to  adopt  and  provide 
for    these    children,    but    not    only    were    all    favours 
refused  from    him,    but    he   was   given  to   understand 
that  his  victim's  son  would  force  him  to  fight  another 
duel  to  the  death.     This   intention,  dominant  in    the 


Zhc  Stor)?  of  Isabel  II.  ot  Spain        243 

first  days  of  the  lad's  loss  and  bitterness,  was  never 
fulfilled. 

Three  days  after  his  death,  Don  Enrique  was  laid 
to  rest,  not  in  the  Escorial  vaults  with  his  ancestors, 
but  in  the  cemetery  of  San  Isadore.  The  funeral 
expenses  were  defrayed  by  the  brotherhood  of  the 
Masonic  lodges  in  Madrid,  he  having  been  an  ardent 
member  of  that  body.  As  it  was  feared  that  the  inter- 
ment would  be  made  the  occasion  of  an  anti-Montpensier 
demonstration,  all  the  police  in  the  capital  were  present. 
It  was  attended  by  immense  numbers  of  people,  among 
whom  the  prominent  politicians  were  not  to  be  found. 
Two  hundred  of  the  poorest  men  and  boys  in  the 
capital,  each  carrying  a  lighted  torch,  headed  the  pro- 
cession. A  band  playing  the  Marsellaise  followed. 
Next  came  the  hearse  bearing  a  bronze  coffin  on  which 
were  the  deceased's  sash,  his  cross  of  Carlos  III.,  and 
his  Masonic  badges.  After  this  walked  five  hundred 
Freemasons,  and  behind  them  the  one  priest  in  Madrid 
who  volunteered  to  say  the  De  Profundi^  above  the 
grave.  About  two  thousand  people  brought  up  the 
rear. 

As  not  a  tenth  part  of  these  could  find  room  in 
the  cemetery,  no  sooner  was  it  full  than  some  twenty 
police  drew  themselves  across  the  entrance  gate.  One 
workman  who  had  been  pushed  forcibly  back  struck 
a  policeman  in  the  face.  Instantly  every  policeman 
drew    out   his    revolver,    but    as   instantly    the   whole 


244  Xlbe  IRomauce  ot  IRo^alt^ 

surging  mass  in  front  of  them  bristled  with  revolvers, 
and  for  a  time  it  was  feared  that  blood  would 
wantonly  be  shed.  This  was  averted  by  the  presence 
of  mind  of  one  man,  who  stepped  forward  and  begged 
them  to  remember  the  occasion  that  brought  them 
together,  and  the  sacredness  of  the  spot  on  which 
they  stood.  In  this  way  a  riot  was  prevented,  and 
Don  Enrique  was  laid  to  rest  in  peace.  On  re- 
covering, Montpensier  surrendered  himself  and  was 
tried  by  court  martial,  when  as  punishment  he  was 
sentenced  to  a  month's  banishment  from  Madrid,  and 
the  payment  of  six  thousand  dollars  to  the  family  of 
his  victim.  Small  as  were  his  chances  previously  of 
gaining  the  crown,  they  were  rendered  infinitely 
less  by  this  tragedy.  Eventually,  crestfallen  and 
sorely  disappointed,  he  returned  to  Seville,  where  he 
cultivated  his  property  and  was  known  as  a  severe  and 
exacting  landlord  to  his  tenants.  Though  the  power 
and  glory  he  longed  for  were  never  gained  by  him, 
he  lived  to  see  a  member  of  his  family  enjoy  them  in 
transcendent  happiness  for  a  brief  space,  before  death 
beckoned  her  from  the  throne,  as  will  be  told. 

Meantime  Isabel  had  on  quitting  Spain  taken  up  her 
residence  in  the  castle  of  Pau,  from  where  she  issued 
an  angry  protest  to  the  subjects  who  had  revolted 
from  her  rule.  It  was  read  by  them  with  con- 
temptuous indifference.  In  commenting  on  it  the 
Madrid    Gazette    briefly    said  :     "  Queen     Isabel     has 


xrbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  ll.  of  Spain        245 

addressed  a    manifesto    to    the    Spaniards.     The    Pro- 
visional Government  refrains  from  making  any  criticism 
upon  it.     The  nation  has  passed  its  sovereign  judgment 
on    the    acts    of    the    Queen,    and    can    now    pass    its 
verdict  on  her  words."      Notwithstanding  the  coldness 
shown   her,  she   by   no  means  lost  hope   of  regaining 
her    crown  ;     and     for     this     purpose     began     various 
intrigues    which    were     carried     on    with    bribery    and 
cajolery.     As  the   castle    of   Pau   was   not    sufficiently 
central  or  convenient  for   her  purposes,   she  removed 
to    Paris    with    Marfori    and    her    husband.      After    a 
short     residence     at    the     Pavilion    de     Rohan,     also 
placed    at    her    service    by    the    Emperor,   she   bought 
the     magnificent     house     which     a     Russian     named 
Basilewsky    had    built    in    the  days  of   his   splendour, 
and    had    sold    to    pay    his    gambling    debts.       Then 
known    as    the    Hotel    Basilewsky,   it    was    eventually 
styled    by    Isabel    the    Palace    de     Castile  ;    while    the 
street    in    which    it    stands,    then    called    the    Avenue 
Roi    de   Rome,   has  since    been   renamed   the   Avenue 
Kleber. 

In  this  new  home,  which  she  took  possession  of 
in  1869,  Isabel  continued  her  active  and  expensive 
propaganda  for  her  return.  It  was  while  the  duel 
was  being  arranged  at  Madrid,  that  a  serious  quarrel 
took  place  between  herself  and  her  husband.  Though 
he  had  borne  his  marital  wrongs  with  a  sublime 
philosophy    unworthy    of    imitation,    his    little    soul 


246  Zbc  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

rebelled  against  a  reckless  extravagance  that  threatened 
his  future.  In  this  way,  as  not  infrequently  happens 
in  domestic  life,  monetary  losses  brought  about  an 
unhappiness  and  severance  which  infidelities  were 
powerless  to  effect.  After  all  these  years  of  gentle 
submission  to  her  wishes,  it  must  have  seemed  amazing 
to  Isabel  that  her  husband  should  assert  himself 
sufficiently  to  claim  a  right  to  their  joint  fortune  ; 
and  on  being  given  a  verbal  box  on  the  ear,  to  have 
applied  to  the  law  for  permission  to  administer  such 
property. 

The  high  courage  necessary  for  this  action  was 
inspired  by  the  fact  that  since  the  revolution,  the 
Queen  had  spent  not  only  the  income  secured  to  her 
from  twenty-five  million  francs,  but  also  four  million 
francs  of  that  capital.  *'  If  this  state  of  things 
continues,"  he  said  to  her  in  his  thin  petulant  voice, 
*'  we  shall  be  beggars  in  six  years  time,"  to  which 
Isabel  contemptuously  replied,  '*  By  that  time  our 
son  will  be  King,  and  the  grandees  of  Spain  do  not 
haggle  about  money."  This  argument  failed  to 
pacify  her  husband,  who  was  only  to  be  satisfied  by 
having  half  their  fortune  settled  on  himself.  To  this 
Isabel  would  not  consent.  Certain  members  of  their 
family,  who  thought  it  undignified  for  Royalty  to 
discuss  their  grievances  in  the  public  Courts,  suggested 
that  the  case  should  be  submitted  to  the  arbitration 
of  four  wise  men,  two   of  whom   should  be  selected 


XTbc  Stor\?  ot  Isabel  IL  of  Spain        247 

by  each  party.  To  this  they  agreed.  The  result 
was  that  the  King  was  to  receive  an  annuity  of  two 
hundred  thousand  francs,  as  interest  on  a  capital 
that  was  secured  beyond  the  grasp  of  Isabel  ;  a 
provision  for  the  children  being  set  aside  in  the 
same  manner.  One  clause  in  the  formal  agreement, 
which  they  signed  in  the  last  week  of  March,  1870, 
stated  that  henceforth  they  were  to  live  separately, 
"  no  matter  what  might  happen  hereafter."  The  ink 
of  his  signature  was  hardly  dry  when  the  King 
Consort  left  the  Hotel  Basilewsky  and  hired  an 
apfartement  de  garfon  in  the  Rue  des  Ecuries  d'Artois. 
Later  he  settled  at  the  chateau  of  Omesson-Epinay, 
near  the  village  of  St.  Denis. 

As  time  passed  the  hard  truth  was  forced  on  Isabel, 
that  the  Spanish  people  would  never  again  tolerate  her 
on  the  throne.  The  hope  which  she  lost  in  her  own 
cause  then  centred  in  that  of  her  only  son,  Alfonso,  Prince 
of  the  Asturias,  in  whose  favour  she  formally  abdicated 
on  June  25th,  1870.  In  the  manifesto  she  issued 
to  her  former  subjects  on  that  occasion,  she  assumed  a 
melancholy  rather  than  an  indignant  tone.  Her  reign, 
she  said,  had  been  saddened  because  her  most  cherished 
feelings,  her  most  fervent  wishes  for  the  prosperity  of 
Spain,  had  been  ever  thwarted  by  others.  "  As  a  girl," 
she  continued,  "  I  had  no  thought  but  to  second  pro- 
posals which  appeared  calculated  to  secure  your  happi- 
ness, but  the  heated  strife  of  partisans  allowed  no  time 


248  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

for  the  law  and  for  the  love  of  prudent  reforms  to  take 
root.  At  an  age  when  reason  is  fortified  by  experience, 
the  ungovernable  passions  of  men  whom  I  would  not 
oppose  at  the  cost  of  your  blood,  more  precious  to  me 
than  my  own,  have  driven  me  to  a  foreign  country  far 
from  the  throne  of  my  ancestors,  to  this  friendly, 
hospitable,  and  illustrious  land,  but  which  is  not  my 
own  country  nor  that  of  my  children." 

Full  of  faith  in  the  future  of  Spain,  solicitous  for  its 
greatness  and  integrity,  and  grateful  for  the  support  of 
those  who  were  faithful  to  her,  she  was  willing  to  for- 
get the  insults  offered  to  her.  And  for  herself,  she 
asked  nothing.  "  But  I  would  obey  the  impulse  of  my 
heart,  and  the  loyal  sentiments  of  the  Spaniards,  by 
confiding  to  their  honour  and  noble  feeling  the  destiny 
of  a   traditional   dynasty  and  the   heir   of  a  hundred 

UlgS. 

Her  words  met  with  no  responsive  sympathy,  and 
indeed  with  little  heed  ;  for  among  the  candidates  for 
the  still  vacant  throne  her  son  had  few  advocates.  The 
Cortes  had  decided  that  any  candidate  to  be  successful 
must  command  an  absolute  majority  in  the  Assembly 
namely,  one  hundred  and  seventy  nine  votes,  instead 
of  the  agreement  of  one-fourth  of  their  members. 
But  when  the  election  of  a  monarch  took  place  on 
November  i6th,  1870,  Alfonso  was  found  to  have 
but  two  votes  ;  the  Duchesse  de  Montpensier  one  ; 
and  Amadeo  of  Savoy  one  hundred  and  ninety  seven, 


ZTbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  ih  of  Spain        249 

this  being  an  excess  of  eighteen  votes  over  the  required 
number.  Already  he  had  agreed  to  accept  this  perilous 
position  on  the  conditions  that  he  would  be  duly 
elected  by  the  Cortes,  and  that  the  foreign  Powers 
would  agree  to  and  acknowledge  his  sovereignty. 
He  was  therefore  proclaimed  King  of  Spain  under  the 
title  of  Amadeus  I. 

Among  all  the  candidates  no  better  man   could  have 
been  selected  to  wear  the  crown.     As  a  Prince  he  was 
prudent,  enlightened,  and  conscientious,  as  a  soldier  he 
had  seen  service  and  shown  bravery,  as  a  husband  and 
a    father    he    was    exemplary.     But    in     the    seething 
caldron  of  Spanish  politics  there  were  many  who  were 
bitterly    opposed  to   his    sovereignty,   and   who    hated 
General   Prim  for  his  active  part  in  placing  him  on  the 
throne.     The   more    desperate    of    these    determined, 
that  the  statesman  and  soldier  should  never  fulfil  his 
intention    of    going    to    Cartagena    to    welcome    the 
foreigner   and   conduct   him   to   Madrid.     It   therefore 
happened  that  on  the  evening  of  Wednesday,  December 
28th,  as  he  and  his  adjutant  were    driving  in  a  close 
carriage    from    the    War    Office   to    the    Cortes,    and 
had    entered    the  dimly   lit   Calle   del   Turco,  cloaked 
figures   emerged   from  the   deep  shadows   of  the  high 
and  sombre  houses  on  either  side  and  fired  on   their 
victim.     The   sharp  report  of  half  a  dozen  shots,  the 
crash   of  glass,  a  woman's  scream,  and   the  sounds  of 
retreating  footsteps    occupied    but    a    second.     When 


250  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRoi^alt^ 

frightened  men  and  women  rushed  from  their  houses 
and  from  the  adjoining  streets,  they  found  no  traces  of 
the  assassins,  and  saw  only  a  wrecked  carriage,  in  which 
lanterns  showed  them  two  men  bleeding  profusely. 

At  first  it  was  thought  that  General  Prim's  wounds 
were  not  dangerous,  but  after  the  amputation  of  one 
of  his  fingers  inflammation  set  in  rapidly.  When  told 
that  the  end  of  his  life  had  come,  he  received  the 
news  calmly,  perhaps  without  regret  at  leaving  a  scene 
of  treachery  and  turmoil,  sent  for  his  friends,  bade 
them  farewell,  and  made  his  peace  with  God  ;  his 
only  anxiety  being  for  the  safety  of  the  King  and  the 
future  of  his  country.  He  died  on  the  night  of  the 
30th.  When  the  Parliament  met  the  following  day, 
it  passed  a  vote  declaring  that  he  had  deserved  well 
of  his  country,  that  his  name  should  be  inscribed 
upon  the  walls  of  the  Cortes,  and  that  his  family 
should  be  placed  under  the  protection  of  the  nation. 
Those  who  had  murdered  him  were  never  brought 
to  justice. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  new  Sovereign  at  Cartagena, 
he  was  met  by  Admiral  Topete,  who  had  succeeded  Prim 
as  President  of  the  Council.  News  of  the  assassination 
of  the  man  chiefly  responsible  for  placing  him  on  the 
throne,  must  have  seemed  to  Amadeus  an  ill  omen 
for  a  peaceful  reign.  On  January  2nd,  1871,  he 
entered  Madrid  under  cold  skies  and  amid  a  chilling 
silence.     Riding    well    in    front    of    his    escort,    as    if 


Tlbe  Stors  of  Isabel  II»  of  Spain        251 

disdaining  protection,  erect  with  a  fearless,  confident 
air,  he  passed  through  crowds  drawn  by  curiosity 
rather  than  loyalty  or  goodwill  to  see  him.  Thin 
and  dark,  with  a  high  forehead,  thick  nose,  immense 
ears,  and  a  projecting  mouth,  his  appearance  was  not 
calculated  to  win  the  favour  of  a  people  sensitive  to 
beauty  ;  but  his  evident  courage  and  his  good  nature 
won  him  admiration  for  these  qualities  as  well  as 
pity  for  the  hopeless  and  ungrateful  task  before  him, 
and  once  or  twice  voices  were  heard  to  call  "  Viva  el 
Rey,"  the  melancholy  of  succeeding  silence  serving 
to  mock  their  feeble  prayer. 

Turning  his  horse's  head  in  the  direction  of  the 
church  of  Our  Lady  of  Atocha,  he  reverently  and 
sadly  entered  its  sombre  aisles,  for  here  but  the  previous 
day  the  remains  of  General  Prim  had  been  taken, 
and  now  waited  interment.  Having  knelt  beside  the 
bier  a  few  moments  in  prayer,  he  rode  to  the  Cortes, 
where  he  was  received  by  the  Regent,  Marshal  Serrano, 
who  surrendered  all  his  powers  to  the  King.  His 
Majesty  then  took  the  oaths  of  fidelity  to  the  Con- 
stitution. The  new  Sovereign's  first  speech  was  re- 
markable for  the  stress  he  laid  on  certain  words. 
While  declaring  his  resolution  to  consecrate  himself 
to  the  difficult  and  glorious  task  he  had  loyally  and 
voluntarily  undertaken,  he  added  he  would  do  so 
only  so  long  as  he  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  the  people, 
on  whom  he  would  never  impose  himself  against  their 


252  Ubc  IRomance  of  lRo\?alt^ 

wishes.  Then  appealing  to  them,  he  said  :  "  Placed 
by  the  will  of  the  country  in  my  position  of  honour, 
my  family  and  I  have  come  here  to  share  your  joys 
and  your  sorrows,  to  feel  and  to  think  as  you  feel 
and  think,  in  short  to  unite  with  indissoluble  links, 
our  fate  to  the  fate  of  the  people  who  have  entrusted 
to  me  the  direction  of  their  destinies." 

Marshal    Serrano    was    made    Prime    Minister,    but 
resigned  that  post  six  months  later.     In  the  following 
year  (1872)  he  took  the  field  as  Commander-in-Chief 
against  the  Carlists,  who  had  once  more  become  agents 
in  the  distraction  and  misery  of  the  country.     With 
them    he    concluded    the    convention    of    Amorevieta, 
and  returned  to  office  once  again  as  Prime  Minister. 
Though    by    economy,    by    indefatigable    attention    to 
affairs  of  State,  by  characteristic  prudence,   the    King 
sought  to  win  his  people  and  govern  the  country,  his 
task   was  hopeless  from   the  first.       Every   public  act 
of  his  was  viewed  with  hostile  suspicion  by  politicians  ; 
the   grandees    of   Spain    looked    down   on   one   whose 
Court  they  avoided  and  whose  Royal  title  they  pro- 
nounced sneeringly  ;  while  the  purity  of  his  domestic 
life,  so  unusual  in  the  palace  of  Madrid,  was  regarded 
as  bourgeoisement.     His  reply — on  being  told  that  one 
wing  of  the  Royal  residence  had  always  been  reserved 
for    the  Queen    and    another    for    the   King — that  he 
preferred  to  live  with  his  wife  and   family,  passed  as 
a  joke  among  the  people. 


Zbc  Stoi'^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        253 

Before  he  was  long  with  them  he  was  named  "  el 
Rey  intruso "  by  his  subjects,  who  by  every  means 
in  their  power  made  him  feel  an  intruder.  His 
comfort  or  safety  was  the  less  assured  because 
Isabel,  furious  at  his  being  placed  on  the  throne 
from  which  she  had  been  ousted,  was  seeking  his 
downfall  by  plots  and  bribes.  Though  continually 
warned  that  his  life  was  in  danger,  he  refused  to 
surround  himself  by  guards,  but  went  about  the  city 
and  among  the  people  in  a  frank  and  fearless  way 
that  won  their  good  regard,  even  while  they  considered 
it  derogatory  to  the  Royal  dignity.  Without  his 
knowledge  or  consent  precautions  were  taken  for 
his  safety,  which  on  one  occasionlat  least  saved  him  from 
assassination.  This  was  a  sultry  evening  in  July, 
1872,  when  he  and  the  Queen  Consort  were  returning 
from  a  concert  at  the  Buen  Retiro  gardens.  The 
Royal  couple  had  remained  there  until  close  upon 
midnight.  On  the  way  home  their  carriage  had 
scarcely  entered  the  Calle  Arenal  when  a  rapid  succes- 
sion of  shots  were  fired  at  it.  These  were  returned 
by  the  police  secretly  placed  along  the  route,  when 
a  running  fire  was  exchanged  all  down  the  alarmed 
street,  whose  darkness  was  lit  by  constant  flashes  from 
revolvers.  Whipping  his  horses,  the  coachman  urged 
them  to  their  greatest  speed,  as  the  surest  means 
of  escape.  Though  balls  whizzed  above  their  heads, 
their    Majesties    were    untouched,    but    one    of    their 


254  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

horses  fell  dead  as  he  entered  the  courtyard  of  the 
palace.  One  of  the  assassnis  was  shot,  another  seriously 
injured,  and  three  captured. 

This  attempt  upon  his  life  resulted  in  the  King's 
decision  to  resign  a  sovereignty  that  brought  him 
small  dignity,  less  authority,  many  open  slights,  and 
no  peace.  His  Prime  Minister,  Don  Jose  Zorilla, 
remonstrated  with  him,  picturing  the  confusion  to 
which  a  monarchless  country  would  be  reduced,  so 
that  the  King  did  not  act  upon  his  intention  until 
early  in  the  following  year,  when  the  Ministry  was 
hopelessly  divided.  Republicanism  rampant,  and  the 
army  thoroughly  disaffected — eight  hundred  artillery 
officers  resigning  simultaneously,  ostensibly  because 
an  unpopular  General,  Hidalgo,  had  been  appointed 
Commander  of  the  Forces  in  Catalonia,  but  probably 
as  the  result  of  Isabel's  wholesale  bribery. 

In  formally  announcing  his  abdication  on  February 
I  ith,  1873,  the  King  said  :  "  It  is  two  long  years  since 
first  I  put  on  the  crown  of  Spain,  and  Spain  still  lives 
in  a  state  of  perpetual  strife  ;  the  era  of  peace  and 
happiness  which  I  so  ardently  longed  for,  seeming 
each  day  more  distant  than  ever.  If  the  enemies  of 
her  well-being  were  foreigners,  then  at  the  head  of 
her  enduring  and  valiant  soldiers  I  would  be  the  first 
to  combat  them.  But  those  who  with  their  sword, 
their  pen,  or  their  speech  aggravate  and  perpetuate 
the  misfortunes  of  the  nation  are  Spaniards  ;  all  invoke 


Z\K  Stoii^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        255 

the  dulcet  name  of  their  country,  all  combat  and 
agitate  for  its  welfare  ;  and  amid  the  din  of  the 
conflict,  the  confusing,  deafening,  and  contradictory 
clamour  of  all  parties,  and  the  many  opposing 
manifestations  of  public  opinion,  it  is  impossible  for 
me  to  discriminate  on  which  side  is  the  truth,  and 
even  more  impossible  to  find  a  remedy  for  such  great 
calamities,  I  have  sought  it  anxiously  within  the  law, 
and  have  not  found  it.  Outside,  having  promised 
to  observe  the  law,  I  cannot  seek  it." 

More  to  this  effect  was  said  in  a  frank,  manly,  and 
moving    address,    which    concluded    by    an     assurance 
that    in    parting    from    the    country    he    did  not   part 
with  his  love  for  Spain,  a  nation  as  noble  as  she  was 
unfortunate,  and  that  he  carried  away  no  other  regret 
than  that  it  should  have  been  impossible  for    him  to 
confer  upon  the  country  all  the  happiness    which    his 
loyal    heart    desired.     Three    days    later    he    and    his 
family    left    the    Royal    palace    of    Madrid    for    ever. 
His  departure  was  taken  with  characteristic   simplicity 
that  dispensed  with  military  escorts,  guards  of  honour, 
or    other    signs    of   parade.     Accompanied    only  by  a 
few  members  of  the  Cortes,  he  passed  through  silent 
crowds    that    exhibited    an    interest    barely    sufficient 
to   give   him  a  farewell  stare.     With  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,   a  whiff  of  cigarette  smoke,  the  rearrange- 
ment of  a  cloak,  they  saw  him  pass  from  their  sight 
and   their   memory.     As    he   clasped    Zorilla's    hands 


256  Zhc  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

in  parting,  tears  sprang  to  his  eyes  ;  and  as  the  train 
steamed  slowly  from  the  station,  he  leaned  from  his 
carriage  window,  and  not  without  regret,  waved  fare- 
well to  all  his  greatness.  No  longer  Amadeus,  King 
of  Spain,  he  was  a  far  happier  man  as  Amadeo,  Duke 
of  Aosta. 


CHAPTER    IV 

Isabel's  Desire  to  See  her  Son  on  the  Throne  Still  Ungratified — The 
Republic  of  Spain — The  Queen  and  her  Old  Friend  General 
Serrano — The  Youth  of  Alfonso  XII. — Movement  in  his  Favour — 
He  is  Proclaimed  King — Joy  and  Excitement  at  the  Hotel 
Basilewsky — At  the  New  Opera  House,  Paris— Alfonso's  Return  to 
Spain — Hopes  of  his  Subjects — Queen  Isabel  Among  her  Former 
Subjects — The  Downfall  of  Carlos  Marfori — The  Project  of  the 
King's  Marriage — Opposition  of  his  Subjects  and  Anger  of  his 
Mother — Isabel  Returns  to  Paris  and  Intrigues  with  Don  Carlos — 
Dines  with  the  Pretender  and  Two  of  his  Generals — Indignation 
in  Spain — Orders  Received  by  the  Spanish  Embassy — Don  Carlos 
is  Obliged  to  Quit  France — Impotent  Excuses  of  Isabel — She  is 
Prevented  from  Attending  her  Son's  Marriage — The  Magnificence 
of  the  Bridal  Procession — Happiness  of  the  Royal  Couple — The 
Sudden  Illness  of  Queen  Mercedes — Her  Parents  are  Summoned 
in  Haste — Her  Unwillingness  to  Die — Grief  of  the  King — His 
Majesty's  Second  Marriage — The  Archduchess  Maria  Christina  of 
Austria — The  King's  Anxiety  for  the  Welfare  of  his  Country — His 
Active  Sympathy  with  the  Sufferers  from  Earthquake  and  Plague 
— Steals  away  from  the  Capital  to  the  Afflicted  People — The  State 
of  his  Health — Unexpected  News  of  his  Death — Birth  of  the 
Present  King  of  Spain — Isabel  and  her  Husband — Death  of  the 
King  Consort  and  of  Carlos  Marfori. 

THE  abdication  of  Amadeus  failed  to  bring 
Isabel  the  desire  of  her  heart,  for  which  she 
still  laboured  indefatigably,  still  continued  to  expend 
immense  sums.  For  no  sooner  had  he  departed  than 
the    Cortes    proclaimed    a    Republic.     All    signs    and 

VOL.    I.  257  I- 


258  XTbe  IRoinance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

symbols  of  Royalty  were  removed  from  the  public 
offices,  institutions,  and  streets,  and  in  some  cases  were 
flung  in  derision  in  the  dust.  Though  it  was  con- 
fidently and  enthusiastically  stated  by  its  advocates 
that  this  form  of  Government  would  bring:  the  nation 
peace  and  prosperity,  it  took  but  a  brief  experience  to 
prove  that  such  blessings  were  farther  removed  than 
ever  under  its  rule.  Conservative  in  all  ways,  Spain 
soon  found  Republicanism  an  ill-fitting  garment.  A 
country  without  a  monarchy  seemed  as  wanting  to  the 
people,  as  did  a  capital  without  a  Court  to  the  nobility. 
And  meantime  nothing  was  left  undone  by  Isabel  in 
turning  the  thoughts  of  all  classes  of  her  former 
subjects  towards  her  son's  claims  to  the  crown. 

In  this  she  was  helped  by  no  less  a  personage 
than  the  friend  of  her  early  days,  Francisco  Serrano  y 
Dominguez,  Due  de  la  Torre,  who  on  the  proclamation 
of  the  Republic  had  fled  to  Paris.  If  for  them  all 
tender  remembrances  of  the  past  were  swept  away  and 
lost  in  the  current  of  later  experiences,  they  were  at 
least  united  in  one  purpose.  A  continually  increasing 
party  in  Spain  also  looked  to  the  occupation  of  the 
throne  by  the  Prince  of  the  Asturias,  as  a  remedy  for 
the  grievous  evils  that  plagued  the  country.  On  the 
downfall  of  Isabel  in  the  autumn  in  1868,  her  son, 
Alfonso  Francisco  d'Assisi  Fernando  Pio  Maria  de  la 
Conception  Gregorio,  was  in  his  eleventh  year.  His 
slight  frame,  with  its  narrow  chest  and  shoulders,  thin 


Xlbe  Stor^  ot  Isabel  IL  ot  Spain        259 

neck,  and  pale  complexion,  gave  him  an  appearance  of 
delicacy  ;  but  his  keen  dark  eyes,  his  alert  movements, 
and  tactful  bearing  showed  a  bright  intelligence. 

For  a  while  he  had  remained  with  his  mother  in 
Paris,  where  he  went  to  school  ;  but  in  February, 
1870,  he  was  sent  to  Geneva,  and  afterwards  to 
Munich  to  continue  his  studies.  Later,  in  January, 
1872,  he  entered  the  Theresianum  College  at  Vienna, 
under  the  charge  of  Count  Morphy.  Here  he  occu- 
pied a  suite  of  rooms  in  which  Charles  VI.  had  lived 
and  Maria  Teresa  had  died.  Furthermore,  as  became 
one  who  might  some  day  reign  as  King,  his  lessons 
were  given  separately  from  the  other  boys,  though 
he  mixed  freely  and  without  formality  with  them  in 
fencing,  drilling,  and  in  the  gymnasium  exercises. 
His  natural  quickness  was  such,  that  though  he  did 
not  speak  a  word  of  German  on  his  arrival  at  Vienna, 
he  talked  it  fluently  and  had  mastered  its  colloquialisms 
before  he  left  in  July,  1874.  He  then  returned  to 
Paris,  and  in  the  following  August  he  was  sent  to 
England,  where  he  entered  the  Royal  Military  College 
at  Sandhurst. 

His  easy  adaptability,  good  humour,  frankness,  and 
freedom  from  superciliousness  won  him  the  friendship 
of  his  fellow  cadets ;  while  his  eagerness  to  learn 
gained  him  favourable  opinions  from  his  masters. 
Meantime,  events  in  Spain  were  taking  a  decided  turn 
in    his  fivour.     It   was  while    he    was  at    Sandhurst, 


26o  tTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

that  on  his  seventeenth  birthday,  November  28th, 
1874,  he  received  addresses  from  *' the  Grandees  and 
Persons  of  Title  in  Spain,"  from  the  Conservative 
Alfonsist  Club,  and  from  the  Liberal  Alfonsist 
Club  in  Madrid.  In  his  reply  to  these  he  said 
among  other  things,  that  when  Spain  was  ready  by 
Parliamentary  proceedings  to  place  him  on  the  throne 
left  vacant  by  the  spontaneous  abdication  of  his 
august  mother,  it  would  be  easy  for  a  true-hearted 
Prince  and  a  free  people  to  agree  upon  questions  of 
importance  to  the  country. 

The  brilliant  hope  raised  by  this  movement  in 
Isabel's  heart  was  confirmed  when  on  the  last  day 
of  the  following  month  news  was  flashed  to  Paris, 
that  General  Martinez  Campo  had  proclaimed  the 
Prince  of  the  Asturias,  King  of  Spain,  under  the 
title  of  Alfonso  XII.  The  lad,  then  spending  his 
holidays  with  his  mother,  must  have  shared  her 
excitement  and  joy  at  this  intelligence,  which  still  left 
them  in  suspense  as  to  how  it  would  be  received  by 
the  Spanish  nation.  When,  however,  at  one  o'clock 
a  telegram  was  delivered  at  the  Hotel  Basilewsky, 
as  Queen  Isabel's  residence  was  still  called,  stating  that 
the  armies  of  the  north  and  centre,  together  with 
the  garrison  of  Madrid,  had  declared  in  his  favour, 
he  was  confident  that  his  position  as  Sovereign  was 
secure.  All  doubt  was  ended  on  the  point  when 
at    half-past    two    o'clock,    news   of    his    proclamation 


Ube  Stoi*\>  of  Isabel  ll.  ot  Spain        261 

and  of  its  favourable  reception  was  received  by  the 
Marquis  de  Vega  di  Armijo,  Spanish  Ambassador 
at  Paris,  who  was  requested  to  inform  the  French 
Government  of  the  fact. 

The  great  news  spread  like  wildfire,  and  the  residence 
of  the  dethroned  Queen  and  the  newly  proclaimed 
King,  was  besieged  by  callers.  One  of  the  first  to 
arrive  was  Cristina,  who,  far  removed  from  a  people 
so  wanting  in  politeness  as  to  have  described  her  as 
a  robber,  and  so  bloodthirsty  as  to  demand  her 
head,  was  leading  a  life  of  peace  and  retirement. 
Scarce  had  she,  still  regal  and  impressive,  left  her 
carriage,  than  that  of  the  Duchesse  de  Montpensier 
came  rolling  up.  The  conveyances  of  other  members 
of  the  family  made  a  long  line  down  the  avenue. 
Then  came  soldiers,  politicians,  and  grandees  who 
had  been  banished  by  the  Spanish  Republic,  all  of 
them  eager  to  offer  their  congratulations  and  services 
to  the  new  Sovereign.  The  King  Consort  was  absent, 
he  having  taken  up  his  residence  at  the  chateau  of 
Omesson-Epinay,  which  he  had  bought  soon  after 
his  separation  from  his  wife.  His  presence,  never 
impressive,  was  not  missed  amid  the  general  commotion 
and  effusive  joy. 

Isabel,  all  tears  and  smiles,  gloried  in  the  thought 
that  her  plans  had  succeeded  in  placing  her  son  on 
the  throne  of  Spain,  her  beloved  country  to  which 
she    hoped    to    return.     Carlos    Marfori,    Marquis    de 


262  Zbc  IRomance  of  1Royaltt> 

Loja,  and  still  Chief  of  her  Majesty's  Household, 
inflated  with  importance,  looked  forward  to  holding  a 
position  worthy  of  his  dignity  in  the  new  Ministry. 
As  sister  of  the  King,  the  Duchesse  de  Montpensier 
would  be  permitted  to  return  to  her  beautiful  home 
at  Seville,  from  which  she  and  her  husband  had 
been  ousted.  Amid  exuberant  felicitations,  protesta- 
tions of  loyalty,  and  predictions  of  a  great  future 
for  the  new  monarch,  the  deep-toned  bell  at  the 
gate  continued  to  announce  fresh  visitors  and  the 
receipt  of  innumerable  telegrams.  One  of  these,  read 
aloud  by  Alfonso  to  an  audience  from  which  with 
difficulty  he  had  obtained  silence,  introduced  a  note 
reminiscent  of  old  discords  into  the  triumphal 
harmony  of  the  moment.  This  said  :  "  The  army  of 
the  north  in  seeing  King  Alfonso,  the  representative 
of  the  legitimate  monarchy,  on  the  throne,  hopes  the 
Royal  flag  will  not  henceforth  be  the  ensign  of  a 
party,  but  that  under  which  all  who  love  order  and 
liberty  may  range  themselves." 

On  the  evening  of  the  following  day,  the  Parisians 
had  an  opportunity  of  publicly  seeing  the  boy  King 
whose  name  was  being  flashed  all  over  the  world,  when 
with  his  mother,  he  was  present  at  the  opening  of  the  new 
Opera  House.  As  he  entered  her  box  he  was  greeted 
by  an  outburst  of  congratulation,  which  his  winning 
youth,  his  restoration  to  the  throne  of  his  ancestors, 
and  to  his  country,  drew  from  a  sympathetic  people. 


XTbc  Storv  of  Isabel  IL  of  Spain         263 

Quite  willing  to  show  himself,  he  walked  about  the 
first  floor  lobbies  between  the  acts,  his  mother,  beaming 
with  happiness,  leaning  on  his  arm.  A  brilliant  throng 
of  men  and  women  surged  around  them,  staring, 
courtesying,  making  room  for  their  progress  ;  those 
known  to  them  receiving  gracious  words  in  response 
to  felicitations.  One  of  these  addressing  Alfonso, 
said,  "  Your  Majesty  must  be  flattered  at  the  eagerness 
of  the  people  to  see  you,"  to  which  he  answered  with  a 
smile,  "Oh,  it  is  merely  curiosity.  I  have  only  just 
become  a  King  in  the  eyes  of  the  public,  but  in  my 
own  mind  I   have  always  been  one." 

The  means  by  which  Isabel  had  chiefly  gained  her 
desires,  an  expenditure  whose  liberality  was  only 
equalled  by  the  impecuniosity  of  army  officials,  left 
her  coff^ers  at  so  low  an  ebb  that  loans  had  to  be 
requested  to  fit  out  the  new  Sovereign  for  a  suitable 
entrance  into  his  kingdom.  This  difficulty  being  over- 
come, Alfonso  left  Paris  amid  innumerable  blessings  and 
prayers  for  his  prosperity,  and  on  January  9th,  1875, 
landed  at  Barcelona,  the  city  from  which  he  took  his 
title  as  Count,  and  where  he  was  joyously  welcomed. 
From  there  he  proceeded  to  Valencia,  the  capital  of 
its  province,  where  the  movement  in  his  favour  had 
been  organised,  and  where  the  population  were  wild 
with  enthusiasm.  Not  only  did  the  whole  city  turn 
out  to  greet  him,  but  upwards  of  thirty  thousand 
people  flocked  in  from    the    surrounding   country    to 


264  ITbe  IRomance  ot  IRoi^alts 

see  him.  In  the  midst  of  immense  surging  crowds 
shouting  their  uproarious  welcome,  amidst  the  thunder 
of  artillery,  the  tramping  of  mounted  troops,  the 
deafening  clamour  of  church  bells,  he  sat  on  horseback, 
calm,  dignified,  like  a  monarch  receiving  his  due  from 
his  subjects  ;  his  strong  dark  features  giving  him  an 
appearance  of  maturity  his  years  did  not  warrant,  his 
expression  marked  not  only  by  that  gravity  charac- 
teristic of  his  nation,  but  with  a  sadness  that  seemed 
to  foreshadow  the  tragic  sorrow  that  was  to  darken 
his  brief  life. 

AVhen  on  the  14th  of  the  month  he  entered  Madrid, 
his  welcome  was  scarcely  less  fervent  and  impressive. 
Weary  of  civil  war,  harassed  by  the  interminable 
strifes  of  political  factions  and  changes  of  Government, 
the  people  hopefully  looked  forward  to  the  reign  of 
this  youth,  unbiassed  by  parties,  taught  by  recent  ex- 
periences, and  knowing  something  ot  other  countries, 
as  a  means  of  securing  and  maintaining  peace.  His 
first  acts,  full  of  tact  and  concihation,  promised  well. 
A  free  pardon  and  complete  amnesty  were  offered 
to  all  who  had  taken  part  in  the  insurrections  ;  and 
all  officers  whom  the  revolutionary  movement  had 
induced  to  join  Don  Carlos,  were  invited  to  return  and 
take  their  places  among  their  former  comrades.  In  the 
manifesto  addressed  to  his  subjects,  Alfonso  said  that 
in  returning  to  his  native  country  he  wished  for  peace. 
He    had    ascended    the    throne,    as    he    had    earnestly 


TLbc  Stor^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        265 

desired,  without  bloodshed,  but  if  his  rights  were 
disputed  by  force,  he  would  fight  for  them.  He  asked 
all  who  fought  for  Don  Carlos  to  lay  down  their  arms. 
He,  Alfonso,  was  the  representative  of  the  dynasty  to 
which  fidelity  had  been  sworn  by  their  fathers.  He 
was  and  would  remain  a  constitutional  King. 

A  heavy  task  lay  before  him,  but  he  began  it 
with  a  brave  heart  ;  for  within  a  few  days  of  his 
entrance  into  Madrid,  he  took  command  of  his  army 
in  the  northern  provinces,  the  stronghold  of  Carlism,  to 
wage  war  against  the  Pretender,  who  was  not  finally 
overcome  and  routed  until  thirteen  months  later. 
When  civil  war  ended,  the  exhausted  financial  condition 
of  the  country  had  to  be  faced,  and  political  parties 
conciliated  if  not  reconciled.  The  young  King's 
position  was  not  made  more  easy  by  the  return 
of  his  mother  to  Spain.  On  July  30th,  1876,  she 
arrived  at  the  little  seaport  town  of  Santander, 
looking  out  upon  the  Atlantic,  whose  bracing  air, 
it  was  hoped,  would  invigorate  her  Majesty.  Her 
reception  by  her  former  subjects  was  chilHng.  In 
the  following  October  she  entered  Madrid  without 
receiving  the  slightest  sign  of  welcome,  recognition 
of  her  being  confined  to  wondering  stares.  During 
her  stay  she  incessantly  wrangled  with  the  Ministry 
about  a  few  thousand  pounds  which  she  declared 
was  due  to  her  from  the  overburdened  nation  at 
the  time  of  her  departure. 


266  XTbe  IRoniance  of  "IRo^alti^ 

The  King  Consort  had  remained  in  France,  but 
Marfori  had  returned  to  Spain.  At  this  time  Alfonso's 
Court  was  presided  over  by  his  eldest  sister,  whom 
death  had  graciously  rid  of  her  wretched  Neapolitan 
husband,  the  Comte  de  Girgenti.  As  it  was  con- 
sidered that  in  beginning  a  new  reign  the  old  order 
of  immorality  had  better  be  dispensed  with  ;  that  a 
Royal  household  that  had  for  its  mistress  a  young 
widow — soon  to  be  replaced  it  was  hoped,  by  a 
young  wife — could  not  suffer  the  presence  of  Marfori, 
his  dismissal  was  desired  by  and  demanded  by  the 
Prime  Minister,  Canovas  del  Castillo.  To  part  with 
the  man  for  whose  sake  she  had  sacrificed  a  crown, 
was  a  concession  which  Isabel  could  make  only 
because  duty  required  it,  and  a  successor  had 
already  been  selected.  When  it  was  therefore  repre- 
sented to  Marfori,  that  the  air  of  Madrid  was 
unsuited  to  his  health,  which  could  not  fail  to 
benefit  by  the  more  bracing  atmosphere  of  the 
Canary  Isles,  he  received  permission  to  visit  them 
from  Isabel,  who  was  always  solicitous  for  the  welfare 
of  her  friends.  No  doubt  her  liberality  reconciled 
him  to  the  change  of  cHmate  ;  at  all  events,  majestic 
to  the  last,  with  the  proud  air  of  one  who  can 
bear  reversals  with  becoming  dignity,  he  made  his 
farewell  bow  to  the  Spanish  Court. 

The  time  had  now  come  when  his  Ministry  and 
his   subjects  wished   the   King  to  marry,   in  the  hope 


Ubc  Stoi'\?  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         267 

that  his  alliance  with  a  daughter  of  some  European 
Power  would  strengthen  the  influence  of  Spain,  and 
give  him  heirs  that  would  perpetuate  his  dynasty  and 
secure  peace  in  the  future  to  the  nation.  Alfonso 
was  quite  ready  to  marry,  but  fully  determined 
that  his  wife  should  be  none  other  than  his  cousin, 
the  Princess  Marie  de  las  Mercedes,  second  daughter 
of  the  Due  de  Montpensier.  Seeing  her  in  Paris, 
he  had  fallen  deeply  in  love  with  one  who  was  not 
only  beautiful,  but  whose  bright  intelligence  and  kind 
heart  made  her  singularly  winning.  Before  being 
called  to  the  throne  he  had  declared  to  her  that 
she  alone  should  be  his  Consort. 

As  it  happened,  he  could  scarcely  have  made  a 
choice  less  popular  with  his  subjects  ;  for  not  only 
would  this  union  fail  to  give  the  support  and 
influence  to  the  State,  which  might  be  expected 
from  an  alliance  with  the  daughter  of  a  ruling 
Power,  but  the  Princess  Mercedes  was  the  daughter 
of  a  man  universally  detested  by  the  Spaniards. 
An  intriguer  and  a  meddler,  he  had  by  underhand 
means  and  for  his  own  purposes  been  the  organiser 
and  paymaster  of  the  Republic  of  1868.  His  hand 
had  killed  the  King's  uncle.  Though  rich,  he  was 
remarkable  for  the  repugnant  vice  of  stinginess,  and 
was  a  harsh,  grasping  landlord  to  his  tenants.  Added 
to  this  was  the  fact  that  no  sooner  was  he  convinced 
that  Alfonso  would  marry  Mercedes  even  if  she  were 


268  Zbc  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

penniless,  than  the  dowry  of  a  million  francs  sterling 
which  he  had  promised  her  was  reduced  to  about 
a  twenty-fifth  part  of  that  sum. 

Besides  the  disapproval  of  his  subjects  and  the 
opposition  of  his  Ministers  to  his  choice,  the  King 
also  had  to  meet  the  stormy  outbursts  of  his 
mother's  anger.  That  he  failed  to  seize  an  oppor- 
tunity that  probably  could  never  be  repeated,  to 
strengthen  his  position,  was  a  trifle  in  comparison 
with  his  design  to  place  the  daughter  of  her  arch- 
enemy on  the  throne.  Reproaches  and  warnings 
having  failed  to  change  his  determination.  Queen 
Isabel  quitted  Spain  in  November,  and  returned  to 
Paris,  fuming  with  rage. 

Always  impetuous,  reckless,  and  irresponsible,  she 
did  not  hesitate,  in  her  efforts  to  revenge  herself 
and  to  punish  her  son,  to  take  an  action  the  most 
harmful  to  him,  the  most  dangerous  to  the  peace 
and  prosperity  of  her  country,  that  could  be 
conceived.  Her  first  step  in  this  direction  was  to 
drive  to  the  Paris  residence  of  Don  Carlos  to  pay 
him  a  visit  of  reconciliation.  As  he  was  absent 
from  Paris  at  that  date  (December  15th,  1877) 
her  Majesty  was  received  by  his  wife,  the  Duchess 
of  Madrid  ;  but  no  sooner  had  he  returned  than 
Isabel,  in  her  anxiety  to  establish  friendly  relations 
with  him,  called  on  the  Pretender  once  more, 
addressed  him  as   "  his   Majesty,"   and   expressed    her 


ZTbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        269 

warm  regard  for  him.  All  Europe  was  amazed  at 
such  overtures.  That  she  should  ally  herself  with 
a  man  whose  obstinacy  and  ambition  had  caused 
bloodshed  and  devastation  to  Spain  ;  who  had 
denounced  her  son  as  an  usurper  ;  who  had  laughed 
at  the  appeal  made  at  Alfonso's  accession  to  end 
civil  war ;  who  had  done  all  in  his  power  to  over- 
throw the  young  monarch  ;  who  had  ceased  from 
harassing  his  unfortunate  country  only  when  over- 
come by  force  of  arms  ;  and  who  might  take  the 
field  and  raise  rebellion  any  day,  was  news  that  set 
the  blood  of  every  Spaniard  aflame.  That  she  was 
willing  and  anxious  to  aid  the  schemes  of  the 
bitterest  enemy  that  her  son  and  her  people  had  to 
reckon  with,  was  but  a  natural  inference.  This  was 
strengthened  when  it  became  pubHcly  known  that 
she  not  only  entertained  Don  Carlos  at  her  table,  but 
had  dined  with  him  in  order  to  meet  two  Carhst 
Generals,  Tristany  and  Iparaguizze,  whose  names 
summoned  recollections  of  terror  to  all  lovers  of 
peace. 

Wild  with  indignation,  her  former  subjects 
demanded  that  the  handsome  income  allowed  her 
by  the  Government  should  be  stopped  ;  and  before 
this  desire  could  be  brought  before  the  Cortes,  the 
Spanish  Embassy  at  Paris  was  not  only  forbidden  to 
hold  any  communication  with  her,  but  its  personnel 
were  instructed    to   ignore    her    presence    wherever    or 


270  Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

whenever  they  met  her.  At  the  same  time,  in  the 
last  days  of  December,  Don  Carlos  and  his  wife 
received  notice  from  the  French  Government  to  quit 
France  within  twenty-four  hours.  This  latter  action 
convinced  her  Majesty  that  she  had  gone  too  far, 
when  she  immediately  addressed  her  impotent  excuses 
through  the  Figaro  to  those  whom  her  recent  conduct 
had  enraged. 

In  her  letter  to  that  journal  she  said  It  was 
neither  in  accordance  with  her  character  nor  her 
custom  to  have  recourse  to  the  press,  even  to  defend 
herself  from  unworthy  and  unjustifiable  attacks  ;  but 
when  the  most  simple  and  the  most  natural  actions 
of  her  private  life  were  misrepresented,  when  political 
adventurers  made  use  of  pubHcity  to  injure  all  who 
showed  her  consideration  or  respect,  she  did  not 
hesitate  to  vindicate  herself.  *'  My  good  and  cordial 
relations  with  my  cousin  Don  Carlos  and  his  wife. 
Dona  Margarita  de  Bourbon,  are  a  secret  to  no 
one,"  continues  her  Majesty.  "  I  have  never  forfeited 
their  esteem  nor  they  mine,  and  I  will  not,  more- 
over, disregard  the  bonds  of  kinship  which  unite 
us,  and  which  misfortune  has  cemented.  .  .  .  What 
reason  is  there  for  sending  away  from  this  generous 
and  hospitable  country  an  exile  whose  present  position 
is  without  hostility,  and  who  is  persecuted,  it  is 
asserted,  on  my  account  ^  Can  there  be  aught  but 
a  calumny  in  the    supposition   that   I    would    conspire 


Zbc  Stor^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain         271 

against  my  dearly  loved  son,  for  whom  1  have 
sacrificed  everything  ?  Is  it  not  revolting  to  think 
that  on  an  imaginary  supposition  this  French  hos- 
pitality, in  which  I  have  sought  repose  from  my 
political  life,  should  break  with  its  traditions  ?  I 
address  myself  to  your  loyalty  to  make  known  the 
truth  as  to  the  good  relations  subsisting  between  my 
cousin  and  myself,  relations  that  have  nothing  to 
do  with  politics." 

Anxious  that  her  sudden  and  warm  friendship 
with  her  son's  worst  enemy  might  not  be  considered 
as  having  political  tendencies,  or  as  a  means  of 
resenting  his  Majesty's  defiance  of  her  will,  as  wicked- 
minded  people  suggested,  Isabel  announced  her 
intention  of  presenting  personally  to  the  Princess 
Mercedes  a  Royal  mantle  that  had  been  specially 
embroidered  for  her.  In  answer  to  this  amiable 
desire  she  was  plainly  assured  by  the  Spanish 
Government,  that  any  attempt  on  her  part  to  cross 
the  frontiers  of  Spain,  would  expose  her  to  rigorous 
treatment.  The  sequel  to  this  rude  message  was — 
according  to  the  Parisian  press,  which  kept  a 
watchful  eye  on  her  Majesty — that  she  was  frequently 
seen  in  the  church  of  St.  Pierre  de  Chaillot,  holding 
a  lighted  taper  in  her  hand  with  the  flame  down- 
wards, an  action  that  was  supposed  to  have  a 
maledictory   signification. 

Meantime  the  King  remained  firm  in  his  resolution 


272  Ube  IRomance  of  1Ro\?alt^ 

to  marry  the  Princess  Mercedes  or  none.  A  love 
so  genuine,  so  fully  prepared  for  sacrifices  as  that  of 
this  lad  just  twenty,  for  this  girl  of  seventeen,  won 
them  the  sympathy  and  aid  of  his  Prime  Minister, 
Senor  Canovas  del  Castillo,  a  distinguished  writer, 
a  man  of  broad  mind,  who  felt  a  warm  affection  for 
the  young  Sovereign.  Accordingly  on  January  iith, 
1878,  he  read  a  Royal  message  to  the  Cortes  announc- 
ing the  marriage.  A  discussion  regarding  it  was  held 
three  days  later,  when  General  Pavia,  who  had  fought 
for  Isabel  at  the  Revolution,  bitterly  opposed  the 
union  on  the  ground  of  its  disadvantage  to  Spain. 
In  this  he  was  backed  by  Senor  Moyano,  who  said 
the  claims  of  the  State  should  be  considered  before 
those  of  affection,  and  who  then  attacked  the  Due 
de  Montpensier.  After  many  speeches  had  been 
made,  the  Royal  marriage  was  approved  of  by  three 
hundred  and  nine  votes  against  four.  The  members 
of  the  Cortes  and  the  public  had  been  brought  to 
look  with  more  favour  on  the  marriage,  when  it  was 
made  known  that  within  a  few  weeks  of  its  celebration, 
at  the  King's  desire,  and  by  his  own  consent,  the 
Due  de  Montpensier  and  his  family  would  quit  Spain. 

The  day  on  which  this  marriage  took  place, 
January  23rd,  1878,  was  long  memorable  in  Madrid 
for  its  picturesque  display,  its  splendid  pageantry,  its 
rapturous  joy.  From  daybreak  the  people  poured 
into  the  streets,  through  which  bands  passed,  playing 


xrbe  Stor\?  ot  Isabel  II.  ot  Spain        273 

stirring  marches  and  national  hymns  with  a  vigour 
that  discarded  the  niceties  of  harmony,  and  atoned 
for  tune  by  blaring  sound.  Under  a  dazzling  sun 
and  the  clearest  of  opalescent  skies,  every  square, 
street,  and  passage  glowed  with  colour  ;  for  there 
was  not  a  balcony  or  window  that  was  not  hung  with 
ancestral  tapestries,  heraldic  draperies,  the  national  flags, 
religious  banners,  and  streamers  of  bright  ribbons. 
By  ten  o'clock,  when  the  Royal  procession  started 
from  the  palace  for  the  church  of  Nuestra  Senora 
de  los  Atocha,  the  populace  was  almost  mad  with 
excitement.  Bells  pealed  joyously  from  scores  of 
church  towers  and  belfries,  cannon  thundered,  bands 
played,  crowds  shouted  exultantly. 

Such  a  scene  had  never  been  witnessed  even  in 
Spain  as  this  procession,  headed  by  two  and  twenty 
caballos  de  respeto^  or  horses  without  riders,  but 
with  Moorish-Spanish  trappings,  green,  white,  yellow, 
and  blue.  Following  jthis  dazzling  display  of  colour 
came  an  escort  of  cavalry  and  then  the  gala  equipages, 
filled  by  the  Royal  Household  in  their  brilliant  uniforms 
and  official  costumes,  and  drawn  according  to  their 
rank  by  two,  four,  or  six  horses.  The  King's  carriage, 
a  blaze  of  scarlet  and  gold  surmounted  by  the  Royal 
crown,  was  drawn  by  eight  white  horses  ;  as  was  that 
in  which  sat  the  bride,  her  face  pale  from  nervousness, 
her  eyes  liquid  from  emotion  as  they  looked  at  the 
surging  enthusiastic  masses,  that  hailed  her  with  waving 

VOL.  I.  18 


2  74  tTbe  IRomance  of  IRoyaltg 

arms,  and  blessed  her  with  lusty  throats.  But  the 
Royal  carriages,  gorgeous  as  they  were,  could  not  com- 
pare with  those  of  the  grandees  of  Spain,  painted  by 
great  artists,  inlaid  with  mother-of-pearl,  gilt,  and 
with  plumes  of  crimson,  blue,  green,  or  yellow  feathers 
in  their  horses'  heads,  their  harnesses  glittering  with 
gold  or  silver,  their  solemn  footmen  in  liveries  of 
antique  design  and  gorgeous  splendour. 

The  Cardinal  Archbishop  of  Benarides,  with  mitre 
and  crosier,  met  his  Majesty  at  the  church  door,  and 
to  the  triumphant  peals  of  the  organ  led  him  to  the 
altar,  where  presently  he  was  joined  by  the  bride. 
Then  in  the  presence  of  the  little  King  Consort,  brave 
in  his  uniform  of  a  Captain-General,  with  many  orders 
crossing  his  narrow  chest  ;  in  the  presence  of  dukes 
and  duchesses,  princes  and  princesses,  of  the  special 
envoys  of  kings  and  queens,  of  the  nobility  of  Spain 
and  members  of  the  Senate,  the  Patriarch  of  the 
Indies  performed  the  ceremony  that  made  this  youth 
and  maiden  man  and  wife.  When  it  had  ended,  the 
bride  turned  to  kiss  the  hands  of  her  parents,  but 
etiquette  forbidding  this  to  a  Sovereign  of  Spain, 
they  kissed  her  on  the  forehead.  That  night  the 
city  blazed  with  light,  and  for  a  week  festivities  and 
displays  followed  each  other  to  celebrate  an  event 
whose  sequel  was  to  end  in  profound  sadness. 

Seldom  if  ever  did  any  Royal  couple  begin  their 
married   life  with  such   prospects   of  happiness.     The 


Ube  Story  of  Isabel  II.  ot  Spain        275 

King  adored  Mercedes  ;  she  worshipped  him  ; 
and  their  days  were  golden.  On  presenting  his 
Consort  to  the  Cortes  on  February  15th,  Alfonso 
declared  that  they  both  would  devote  their  strength 
and  energy  to  promote  the  welfare  of  Spain,  with 
which  they  identified  their  aspirations  for  happiness. 
This  statement  both  kept  in  view.  Quickly  the 
people,  who  at  first  had  looked  coldly  if  not  with 
hostility,  on  the  marriage,  took  the  bride  to  their 
hearts  ;  for  they  were  not  only  captivated  by  her 
appearance,  and  by  the  romance  of  her  wooing,  but 
by  her  natural  goodness  of  heart  that  showed  itself 
in  sympathy  for  suffering,  in  charitable  deeds,  in  her 
refusal  to  accept  an  allowance  from  the  Civil  List 
because  it  would  increase  the  burden  of  the  heavily 
rated  taxpayers,  and  in  the  example  of  domestic  life 
which  she  showed  to  all.  And  soon  they  came  to 
regard  her  not  only  as  the  purest  gem  the  crown 
of  Spain  had  known  for  centuries,  but  as  the  bringer 
of  luck  to  the  nation.  For  with  her  marriage  the 
insurrection  of  Cuba  which  had  cost  Spain  one 
hundred  thousand  lives,  came  to  a  close  ;  the  brawl 
of  political  factions  was  quieted  ;  and  the  country  gave 
promise  of  prosperity. 

A  jewel  beyond  all  price  to  her  husband,  he  would 
have  adorned  her  with  priceless  jewels  had  it  been 
in  his  power.  But  those  belonging  to  the  Queens  of 
Spain   had  been  claimed  as   her  own   by  his  mother  ; 


276  Ube  IRomance  of  IRoi^altg 

who  for  their  safe  keeping  had  placed  in  the  treasury 
of  the  church  of  the  Atocha,  diamonds  and  other 
precious  stones  valued  at  fifteen  million  reals,  or 
about  three  million  francs.  On  making  application 
to  his  mother  for  these,  she  who  was  unwilling  to 
have  them  worn  by  Montpensier's  daughter,  replied 
that  he  could  have  them  if  he  purchased  them.  On 
his  declining  to  do  so,  Isabel  threatened  to  sell  them 
by  public  auction,  when  the  King  immediately  took 
legal  proceedings  to  prevent  her  intention  from  being 
carried  out.  Before  further  steps  could  be  taken, 
an  event  occurred  which  ended  the  dispute  in  a 
manner  none  feared  or  foresaw. 

The  popularity  of  the  young  and  gracious  Queen, 
rose  to  its  height  when  it  became  known  in  June 
that  she  was  to  become  a  mother.  I'his  joyful  news 
had  not  lost  the  freshness  of  its  flavour,  when  a 
whisper  spread  like  a  chilling  wind,  that  she  was 
attacked  by  an  illness  not  warranted  by  her  condition. 
Unaccountable  physical  prostrations  and  cold  sweats 
had  been  followed  by  vomitings  so  severe  as  to 
produce  hemorrhage.  Senor  Gregorio,  President  of 
the  Faculty,  and  Physician  to  the  Royal  Family,  was 
hastily  summoned  on  June  21st,  when  he  examined 
his  patient  and  declared  there  was  no  danger.  Belief 
in  his  words  helped  to  lift  the  incommunicable  fear 
and  black  depression  that  had  seized  upon  the  King. 
Mercedes   rallied  and    then    became    worse,   at   which 


tTbe  Stoi*^  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        277 

Senor  Gregorio  brought  three  doctors  to  her  bed- 
side. None  of  them  agreed  as  to  the  cause  of  her 
malady,  which  was  now  suspected  must  end  in  her 
death  ;  but  they  united  in  giving  it  a  name — gastric 
fever. 

So  rapid  was  its  development  that  on  the  23rd  a 
telegram  saying,  "  Mercedes  is  in  the  death  agony  ; 
come  without  loss  of  time,"  was  sent  to  her  parents. 
At  the  moment  they  received  this  first  intimation 
of  her  illness,  they  were  celebrating  the  christening 
of  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  Comte  and  Comtesse 
de  Paris  at  the  Chateair  d'Eu.  Stricken  with  terror, 
they  reached  the  nearest  railway  station  of  Trepont, 
to  find  it  was  impossible  to  get  a  special  train  to 
take  them  to  Paris.  After  an  intolerable  wait  they 
travelled  by  the  ordinary  slow  train,  with  its  aggra- 
vating stoppages,  to  Paris,  from  whence,  as  fast  as 
steam  could  carry  them,  they  travelled  to  Madrid. 
It  was  night  when  they  arrived.  A  reply  to  their 
first  breathless  inquiries  assured  them  that  their 
beloved  daughter  still  lived,  but  the  city  through 
which  they  were  driven  seemed  as  if  it  already 
mourned  its  dead.  Neither  sound  of  merriment  nor 
blaze  of  lights  was  heard  or  seen.  Sombre  figures 
entered  churches  left  open  for  the  purpose,  to  pray 
for  her  Majesty.  The  splashing  of  the  fountains  in 
the  Puerta  del  Sol  sounded  like  the  expression  of 
human    sorrow,    and    it    seemed    as    if   the    tolling    of 


27B  ttbe  IRomance  oi  IRo^alty 

bells  might  momentarily  smite  the  heavy  air.  Around 
the  Royal  palace,  whose  massiveness  was  outlined  by 
the  yellow  lights  of  its  innumerable  windows,  and 
canopied  by  a  purple  dome,  star-lit,  serene,  and  in- 
sensible to  mortal  griefs,  groups  of  anxious  people 
had  gathered,  their  frightened  eyes  questioning  each 
other,  thoughts  rising  in  their  minds  which  their  lips 
scarce  dared  to  whisper.  For  there  were  those  among 
them  who  remembered  threats  spoken  six  months 
before,  when  the  girl  now  dying  had  been  made  a 
wife,  that  no  child  of  her  hated  race  should  reign  in 
Spain — a  saying  now  brought  forcibly  to  mind  by  the 
appearance  of  the  detested  Montpensier  driving  rapidly 
past  them  in  a  race  between  himself  and  death. 

Mercedes  was  asleep  when  her  parents  arrived,  but 
she  awoke  presently  to  find  her  hand  lovingly  clasped 
in  that  of  her  mother.  That  touch,  more  than  all 
else,  brought  back  the  days  of  her  girlhood  not  yet 
exhausted,  though  she  was  being  called  away.  For 
she,  poor  child,  was  unwilling  to  leave  the  husband 
who  was  the  source  of  all  her  happiness,  unwilling 
to  leave  in  inexpressible  loneliness  and  grief  one 
whom  she  idolised,  unwilling  to  leave  the  people 
who  loved  her,  the  joys  common  to  humanity,  beside 
which  those  promised  by  her  confessor  seemed  vision- 
ary, flavourless,  incomparable  with  those  she  had  just 
begun  to  realise.  And  she  was  yet  so  young,  for 
only    on    June    24th    (1878)     had    she    reached    her 


tbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  IL  ot  Spain        2^/9 

eighteenth  birthday  ;  yet  on  the  27th  she  died  in  her 
husband's  arms,  his  frantic  embrace  being  powerless 
to  keep  her  beside  him. 

Consternation  spread  throughout  the  country.  The 
capital,  darkened  and  subdued,  expressed  a  sorrow 
that  was  deepened  by  mystery.  The  light  of  his  life 
has  passed  for  ever  from  the  King.  Contrary  to 
the  custom  practised  with  the  remains  of  Royalty, 
the  young  Queen  was  not  embalmed.  This  was  said 
to  be  due  to  the  wishes  of  her  father,  who  also  de- 
sired that  her  last  resting  place  should  not  be  that 
chill,  marble  chamber  in  the  dreary  Escorial  known 
as  El  Panteon  de  los  Infantes,  reserved  for  queens 
who  have  not  had  the  honour  of  being  the  mothers 
of  kings,  or  of  reigning  as  regents — etiquette,  which 
in  Spain  rules  even  in  death,  reserving  another  vault 
for  those  so  highly  favoured.  The  remains  of  the 
ill-fated  Queen  were  placed  in  a  side  chapel  of  the 
Escorial  church,  until  a  basilica  could  be  raised  to 
receive  them,  whose  magnificence  would  perpetuate 
her  memory  and  testify  to  her  husband's  grief  It 
was  presently  announced  that  a  million  reals  would 
be  deducted  from  the  Civil  List  annually  for  the 
construction  of  the  basilica  until  it  was  finished.  The 
Due  de  Montpensier  and  the  King's  eldest  sister,  the 
Princess  of  the  Asturias,  promised  a  subscription  of  two 
hundred  thousand  reals  yearly  for  the  same  purpose, 
while  on  a  request  being  made  at  the  instance  of  the 


28o  trbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

King  to  Isabel,  that  she  should  devote  the  proceeds 
of  the  disputed  jewels  to  the  building,  she,  always 
impetuous  and  emotional,  immediately  telegraphed  to 
Alfonso  :  "  Your  mother,  my  child,  not  only  permits 
the  jewels  of  the  Atocha  to  be  sold,  but  she  blesses 
you  and  joins  in  your  project — a  project  worthy  of 
a  King,  a  Christian,  and  a  good  husband."  It  is  in 
itself  a  commentary  on  human  nature  to  state  that 
the  basilica  was  never  built.  The  remains  of  Mercedes 
still  rest  in  a  side  chapel  of  the  Escorial  church. 

~  As  there  was  no  heir  to  the  Crown,  and  the 
country  was  yet  far  from  settled,  it  became  necessary 
that  its  King  should  marry  again  with  as  little  delay 
as  possible.  When  this  was  urged  upon  the  heart- 
broken husband  by  Senor  Canovas  del  Castillo,  he 
replied  that  if  ever  he  took  another  wife  it  would 
be  the  Archduchess  Maria  Christina  of  Austria, 
whom  he  remembered  as  a  tall  slim  girl  at  the  Court 
of  Vienna  when  he  was  a  student  at  that  capital.  To 
this  Princess,  Maria  Christina  Henrietta  Desiree 
Felicite  Reniere,  daughter  of  the  Archduke  Charles 
Ferdinand  and  of  the  Archduchess  Elizabeth  of 
Austria,  there  could  be  no  objection  politically.  In 
all  ways  she  seemed  desirable  as  a  Queen  Consort, 
for  she  was  known  to  have  been  carefully  educated 
by  her  devoted  mother,  to  be  intellectual  and  accom- 
plished, and  to  possess  an  ability  and  force  of  character 
that    had    induced    her    cousin    the    Emperor    Francis 


tlbe  Stor^  ot  Isabel  II.  of  Spain        281 

Joseph,  to  appoint  her  at  the  age  of  eighteen  as 
Abbess  of  the  House  of  Noble  Ladies  of  St.  Teresa  in 
Prague.  Born  on  July  2ist,  1858,  she  was  in  1878 
just  twenty,  and  eight  months  younger  than  Alfonso. 

Negotiations  between  the  Courts  of  Spain  and 
Vienna  were  at  once  opened  regarding  the  marriage, 
which  both  sides  regarded  as  most  suitable.  Before 
any  formal  step  was  taken,  the  young  Archduchess 
desired  that  she  and  Alfonso  should  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  becoming  better  acquainted,  and  of  judging 
for  themselves  if  they  were  suited  to  each  other. 
Accordingly  she  and  her  mother  went  to  Arcachon, 
in  the  south  of  France,  where  the  Spanish  King 
joined  them  in  September,  1879.  In  the  quietness 
of  this  retreat,  unrestricted  by  the  formalities  of  a 
Court  or  the  distractions  of  entertainments,  they  came 
to  an  understanding  that  resulted  in  an  agreement  to 
marry.  On  October  17th  a  special  ambassador,  the 
Due  de  Baylen,  attended  by  a  magnificent  suite,  left 
Madrid  for  Vienna,  to  ask  the  hand  of  the  Arch- 
duchess for  his  Royal  master.  Five  days  later  a 
special  audience  was  given  him  by  the  Emperor  of 
Austria  in  the  Throne-room  of  the  palace,  when  his 
Majesty  granted  the  request,  and  the  bride  elect 
solemnly  surrendered  all  her  rights  of  succession  to 
the  Austrian  Crown,  in  accordance  with  the  law 
obliging  all  princesses  of  the  Imperial  House  to  do 
so  when  they  wed  a  foreign  prince. 


282  tTbe  IRomance  ot  IRo^alr^ 

On  November  17th,  1879,  ^^e  Archduchess  and 
her  mother,  attended  by  a  numerous  retinue,  left  Vienna 
for  Madrid,  which  they  reached  on  the  morning  of 
the  24th,  to  receive  a  courteous  reception.  On  the 
29th  of  the  same  month,  Alfonso  stood  before  the 
high  altar  of  the  church  of  the  Atocha  beside  his 
second  bride,  where  but  a  few  months  previously  he 
had  made  Mercedes  his  wife.  The  ceremony  was 
celebrated  with  great  pomp  and  state,  and  the  city 
rejoiced  for  four  days,  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  their 
Majesties,  who  desired  that  instead  of  money  being 
expended  in  this  way,  it  should  be  devoted  to  those 
suffering  from  the  recent  inundations  which  had  laid 
waste  many  towns  and  villages  in  the  province  of 
Murcia,  the  whole  plain  surrounding  its  capital  being 
under  water  for  a  distance  of  twenty  miles. 

Eager  as  the  King  was  to  see  his  country  enjoy 
peace  and  prosperity,  endeavour  as  he  would  to  give 
it  such  blessings,  all  his  hopes  and  aims  in  these 
directions  seemed  vain.  Distant  Cuba  still  caused 
trouble.  Republicanism  showed  its  vitality  whenever 
an  opportunity  offered,  revolutionary  outbreaks  in 
the  army  had  to  be  faced,  and  political  struggles  for 
place  and  power  rent  the  Cortes.  Twice  had  attempts 
been  made  to  take  the  King's  life.  But  it  was  not 
until  1885,  that  the  severest  sufferings  scourged  this 
unfortunate  country.  In  the  beginning  of  that  year 
disastrous  earthquakes  became  daily  occurrences  in  the 


Zbc  Story  of  Isabel  II,  of  Spain        283 

south,  and  continued  for  about  six  months.  Some 
idea  of  the  ruin  they  caused  is  gained  from  the  official 
returns,  which  state  that  from  Christmas,  1884,  to  the 
end  of  February,  1885,  sixty-three  towns  and  villages 
in  the  province  of  Granada  alone  had  five  thousand 
four  hundred  and  eighty  houses  destroyed  ;  while  six 
hundred  and  ninety  inhabitants  were  killed,  and  eleven 
hundred  and  seventy  persons   were  injured. 

As  during  the  inundations  at  Murcia,  the  King 
had  gone  among  the  sufferers,  helping  them  by 
personal  endeavours  as  well  as  by  money  and  by 
sympathetic  words,  so  at  the  height  of  this  panic  he 
hurried  to  those  wretched  people  who  were  beside 
themselves  with  terror,  their  lives  momentarily 
threatened,  their  relatives  and  friends  snatched  from 
them,  most  of  them  homeless  and  penniless,  with  no 
prospect  but  starvation  before  them. 

Alfonso  had  scarcely  returned  to  Madrid,  when 
the  air  was  filled  with  rumours  of  the  discovery  of 
a  plot  to  assassinate  him  during  the  Royal  visit  he 
was  to  pay  to  the  churches  on  Holy  Thursday. 
Several  arrests  were  made.  This  was  in  early  spring. 
The  summer  brought  an  outbreak  of  cholera,  that 
beginning  at  Barcelona,  spread  rapidly  to  most  of  the 
central  and  southern  provinces.  For  months  it  raged 
with  terrible  virulence,  the  death  rate  rising  in  August 
to  sixteen  hundred  daily.  The  King  at  once  expressed 
a  desire  to  visit  his  afflicted  subjects,  an  intention  that 


284  Ube  IRomance  ot  IRo^alti? 

was  Instantly  and  violently  opposed  by  his  Ministers, 
who  told  him  that  if  he  did,  they  would  resign. 
He  therefore  said  nothing  more  of  the  subject  to 
them,  though  he  was  still  determined  to  do  what  he 
regarded  as  his  duty.  Therefore  when  an  opportunity 
of  slipping  quietly  away  offered  itself  one  day,  he 
quietly  left  the  palace  accompanied  only  by  an  aide- 
de-camp,  walked  to  the  railway  station,  and  taking 
his  place  unostentatiously  in  an  ordinary  carriage,  was 
on  his  way  to  the  stricken  district  before  any  one 
of  his  family  or  his  Ministers  were  aware  of  it. 

Such  acts  as  these  made  him  beloved  by  his 
subjects ;  and  the  general  knowledge  that  he  could 
not  reign  long  over  them,  did  not  lessen  their  love. 
For  there  was  no  concealing  the  fact  that  Alfonso  was 
the  victim  of  a  consumption  he  had  not  inherited  from 
the  King  Consort  nor  yet  from  his  mother.  Always 
a  fragile  figure,  narrow-chested  and  without  the 
colour  of  health  in  his  face,  he  was  at  the  same  time 
alert,  manly,  bright  mannered,  disdaining  all  semblance 
of  invalidism,  and  indeed  disregarding  and  turning 
his  back  on  the  signs  and  warnings  his  constitution 
gave  him.  The  means  he  had  sought  to  dissipate  the 
great  grief  of  his  life  in  its  bitterest  moments,  had 
sapped  his  vitality  ;  but  none  were  allowed  to  suppose 
at  this  time  that  his  condition  was  serious. 

In  the  early  winter  of  1885,  Dr.  Camison,  who 
was  in   attendance   on   his   Majesty,   was  anxious  that 


Zbc  Stor^  of  Isabel  II.  ot  Spain        285 

he  should  leave  the  capital  for  the  milder  climate 
of  the  south  ;  for  with  its  variable  temperature  and  the 
subtle,  penetrating  winds  that  sweep  down  upon  it 
from  the  snow-capped  Guadarrama  mountains,  Madrid 
has  always  been  recognised  as  a  city  fatal  to  con- 
sumptive invalids,  the  treachery  of  its  air  being 
described  by  an  old  proverb  stating  that  a  breath 
insufficient  to  extinguish  a  candle  will  put  out  a  man's 
life.  The  King,  who  had  a  will  of  his  own,  refused  to 
leave  at  a  time  when  he  believed  it  was  his  duty  to 
remain  and  open  the  Cortes,  and  when  he  considered 
that  his  absence  would  have  an  ill  effect  at  home  and 
abroad.  As  a  compromise  he  consented  to  remove 
in  October  to  the  Pardo  Palace,  six  miles  from 
Madrid.  The  Queen  Consort,  his  mother,  with  whom 
he  had  become  reconciled  soon  after  the  death  of 
Mercedes,  and  his  aunt,  the  Duchesse  de  Montpensier, 
accompanied  him.  Their  united  persuasions  gained 
from  him  a  promise  that  towards  the  end  of  November 
he  would  go  to  San  Lucar,  near  Seville,  the  Due  de 
Montpensier's  country  residence,  and  the  date  for 
the  journey  was  fixed  for  the  30th  of  the  month. 

Meanwhile  the  public  heard  little  about  his  health, 
but  what  little  was  heard  gave  no  cause  for  alarm. 
On  November  4th  the  Madrid  correspondent  of 
The  Times  stated  that  the  news  he  had  daily  from 
the  Pardo  was  in  every  way  satisfactory.  On  the 
24th  of  the  month  he  was  "  informed,  notwithstanding 


286  Ube  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

unfavourable  rumours,"  that  the  King  was  progressing 
in  health.  It  was  on  the  same  date  that  the  first 
official  announcement  of  his  Majesty's  illness  was 
published.  On  the  following  morning  at  nine  o'clock 
he  passed  peacefully  away  in  the  presence  of  his 
devoted  wife.  The  immediate  cause  of  his  death 
was  dysentery.  The  guards  were  doubled  at  the  Royal 
palace  at  Madrid  and  at  the  public  offices,  and  the 
garrison  prepared  against  a  rising,  before  news  of 
the  King's  death  was  made  known  to  his  people, 
who  bewildered  and  grief-stricken,  rushed  into  the 
streets  where  they  questioned  each  other,  prayed  for 
the  dead,  and  bewailed  their  loss. 

Even  an  hour  like  this  was  not  too  sacred  for 
the  lovers  of  intrigue  to  weave  their  plots  ;  and  with 
an  eye  to  their  own  interests,  an  attempt  was  made 
by  one  party  to  have  Isabel  proclaimed  Regent,  and 
by  another  faction  to  have  that  dignity  conferred  on 
the  King's  eldest  sister,  the  Comtesse  de  Girgenti. 
Both  immediately  declined  to  usurp  the  rights  of 
Queen  Maria  Christina.  The  latter  had  given  birth 
to  two  daughters  :  Maria  de  las  Mercedes,  Princess 
of  the  Asturias,  born  September  I2th,  1880;  and 
the  Infanta  Maria  Teresa  Isabel,  born  November 
1 2th,  1882.  The  elder  of  these,  a  child  of  five, 
was  declared  the  successor  to  the  Throne,  with  her 
mother  as  Regent.  As  her  Majesty  was  soon  to 
become    a    mother,    the    rights  of  the    infant    about 


Zhc  Stor\?  of  Isabel  II.  of  Spam        287 

to  be  born  were  reserved  in  case  he  should  be  a 
male  child. 

The  remains  of  Alfonso  XII.  were  removed  with 
all  possible  pageantry  from  the  Pardo  to  the  Royal 
palace  at  Madrid,  where  they  lay  in  state  in  the 
Salon  des  Columnas  for  three  days,  and  were  visited 
by  thousands  of  sorrowing  people.  Then  on  Sunday, 
the  30th,  they  were  taken  to  the  Escorial,  where 
according  to  the  etiquette  of  such  a  ceremony,  they 
passed  through  the  great  gate  which  no  Spanish 
Sovereign  enters  alive,  and  were  received  by  the 
Minister  of  Justice,  who  addressing  the  bearers,  said, 
"  Huntsmen  of  Espinosa,  is  this  the  body  that  you 
received  on  the  death  of  Alfonso  XII.  ?  "  "  The  same," 
answered  the  Chief  Huntsman.  "  Do  you  swear  it  ?  " 
was  asked.  "  Yes,  we  swear  it,"  came  the  reply,  when 
the  body  was  borne  to  the  nave  of  the  church.  A 
solemn  Requiem  Mass  was  celebrated  by  the  Bishop  of 
Madrid,  after  which  all  that  was  mortal  of  the  King 
was  laid  in  one  of  the  empty  sarcophagi  of  black 
marble,  that  standing  in  niches  of  the  octagon  chamber 
named  the  Panteon,  await  the  bodies  of  the  Sovereigns 
of  Spain. 

The  King's  death  was  followed  twenty-four  hours 
later  by  that  of  Marshal  Serrano,  Due  de  la  Torre, 
who  had  played  many  parts  in  the  government  of 
his  country.  From  the  time  of  Alfonso's  accession, 
he    had    lived    quietly,    no    longer    desiring    place    or 


288  XLhc  IRoniancc  of  IRoi^alt^ 

honour,  somewhat  weary  of  a  political  career  that  had 
seen  eighty-four  radical  changes  in  the  Spanish 
Ministries,  forty  distinct  pronunciamentos  or  re- 
bellions, and  twelve  changes  either  in  the  person  or 
the  character  of  the  supreme   power  in  Spain. 

On  May  17th,  1886,  the  Oueen  gave  birth  to  a 
son,  an  event  hailed  with  inexpressible  joy  by  the 
monarchical  party  in  Spain.  Ten  days  later  this  boy, 
the  present  King  of  Spain,  was  baptised  in  the  palace 
chapel,  Pope  Leo  XIII.  standing  godfather  by  proxy, 
the  names  given  him  being  Alfonso  Fernando  Maria 
Isidoro  Pascal  Antonio. 

The  separation  of  Queen  Isabel  and  the  King 
Consort  had  not  been  marked  by  rancour.  On  the 
contrary,  a  friendship  survived  between  them  sufficiently 
strong  to  enable  them  to  tolerate  each  other's  society 
for  a  few  hours  twice  a  year.  These  occasions  were 
their  respective  birthdays.  On  May  13th,  the  date  of 
his  nativity,  Isabel  drove  to  his  chateau  at  Omesson, 
lunched  with  him,  chatted  with  him,  smoked  a  cigarette 
in  his  presence,  and  drove  back  to  Paris.  This  visit 
he  politely  returned  on  her  birthday,  October  loth. 
His  visits  elsewhere  were  few,  for  he  led  a  retired 
life  and  seldom  cared  to  leave  the  grounds  of  his 
residence.  On  April  12th,  1902,  Isabel  received  news 
from  the  Papal  Nuncio,  who  was  then  staying  with 
the  King,  that  his  Majesty  was  seriously  ill.  On  this 
she  immediately   drove  to   Omesson,  when   she  found 


trbe  Stor^  of  Isabel  ll.  ot  Spain        289 

that  her  husband  was  suffering  from  inflammation  of  the 
lungs.  His  condition  seemed  so  grave  that  she  sent 
for  her  two  surviving  daughters.  The  Comtesse  de 
Girgenti  was  the  first  to  arrive  from  Madrid,  followed 
some  hours  later  by  the  Princess  Maria  of  Bavaria, 
who  had  hurried  from  Munich.  All  recognised  that 
the  patient  had  come  to  the  end  of  his  journey.  The 
Queen  remained  in  his  room  day  and  night  until  he 
died  on  the  morning  of  April  17th,  1902,  when  he 
was  within  a  few  weeks  of  reaching  his  eightieth  birth- 
day. On  the  19th  his  remains  were  taken  to  the 
Escorial,  and  placed  in  one  of  the  black  marble 
sarcophagi  in  the   Panteon. 

Within  two  months  of  the  King's  death,  on  June 
2nd,  Carlos  Marfori,  Marquis  de  Loja,  died,  supremely 
proud  to  the  last  that  for  his  sake  a  crown  had 
been  sacrificed.  Isabel  outlived  them  by  nearly  two 
years  ;  she  dying  on  April  9th,  1904,  at  the  Palace 
de  Castile  in  Paris. 


VOL.    I.  19 


IV 
THE    ROMANCE    OF    THE    SECOND 

EMPIRE 


291 


CHAPTER    I 

William  Kirkpatrick,  Grandfather  of  the  Empress  Eugenie — His  Three 
Daughters  and  their  Husbands — Don  Cipriano,  Comte  de  Teba, 
Father  of  Eugenie — His  Marriage  and  its  Results — He  becomes 
Comte  de  Montijo — His  Vivacious  Wife — Her  Travels  to  Europe 
and  Meeting  with  Prosper  Merimee — The  Marriage  of  his 
Elder  Daughter — A  Man  who  had  been  Buried  before  he  was 
Born — The  Countess  holds  a  Confidential  Post  at  the  Court  of 
Isabel— In  Paris  once  more — Introduction  to  Napoleon — The 
Approach  to  the  Throne  of  France — Napoleon  is  Elected  Emperor 
— He  is  Recognised  by  England — The  Comtesse  de  Teba  Offers 
him  her  Fortune — Devotion  of  the  Princess  Mathilde  to  her  Cousin 
— Her  Marriage  and  its  Sequel — Lord  Malmesbury's  Description 
of  her  Appearance  at  a  Fancy  Ball — Miss  Howard  and  Napoleon 
— Her  Substantial  Aid — Napoleon  in  Search  of  a  Wife — The 
Courts  of  Europe  Unwilling  to  Furnish  him  with  a  Consort — His 
Proposal  for  the  Princess  Adelaide  of  Hohenlohe— Queen  Victoria 
Discusses  the  Subject  with  her  Foreign  Minister — A  Dramatic 
Incident  Leads  to  the  Emperor's  Proposal  to  Eugenie  de  Teba — 
Opposition  to  the  Marriage — Napoleon's  Determination. 

THE  high  yellow-washed  house  with  its  long 
narrow  windows  protected  by  jalousies,  standing 
in  the  Calle  San  Juan  in  Malaga,  is  yet  pointed 
to  as  the  former  residence  of  William  Kirkpatrick, 
the  maternal  grandfather  of  the  Empress  of  the 
French.  A  scion  of  the  Kirkpatricks  of  Closeburn 
in    Scotland,    who    were    dispossessed    of   their    lands 

293 


294  XTbe  IRomance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

and  persecuted  as  traitors  for  their  adherence  to  the 
Stuarts,  William  had  escaped  to  Spain  and  settled 
in  the  sunny  little  city  of  Malaga,  that  rises  on  a 
hill  above  the  Mediterranean.  Tall  and  sinewy,  ruddy 
skinned  and  fair  haired,  he  was  the  fortunate  possessor 
not  only  of  the  physical  traits  of  his  race,  but  of  the 
sagacity  that  enables  them  to  see  and  grasp  the  chances 
of  success.  Starting  as  a  wholesale  fruit  and  wine 
merchant,  and  carrying  on  a  trade  with  England  and 
America,  he  was  soon  sufficiently  prosperous  to  afford 
a  wife.  His  selection  fell  on  a  Spanish  girl  of  good 
family,  Dona  Francisca  Maria,  daughter  of  Baron 
de  Grivegnee,  who  bore  him  three  daughters  and  a 
son.  His  heir  died  in  infancy,  but  the  girls  grew 
up  strong  and  handsome,  and  were  sent  to  school 
to  France,  from  whence  they  returned  in    1841. 

Their  Scotch  descent,  their  French  education,  and 
their  striking  appearance  gave  them  a  distinction  that 
drew  many  admirers  to  their  mother's  salon.  From 
these  they  lost  no  time  in  selecting  husbands.  Carlotta 
Catalina  married  her  cousin,  Thomas  James  Kirk- 
patrick,  son  of  John  Kirkpatrick,  who  had  been 
paymaster  in  the  English  army  under  Wellington, 
and  had  in  this  way  compensated  those  who  helped 
to  overthrow  the  Napoleonic  dynasty,  whose  restora- 
tion later  on  was  to  be  aided  by  another  member  of 
the  family.  A  second  daughter,  Henriquita,  married 
Count  Cabarrus,  the  owner  of  a  large  sugar  plantation 


Ubc  IRoinance  ot  tbe  Secont)  ]£mpire      295 

at  Velez,  near  Malaga.  But  the  eldest,  Maria  Manuela, 
was  more  ambitious  in  her  choice  of  a  partner.  By 
far  the  handsomest  of  her  sisters,  she  was  also  the 
most  vivacious,  original,  and  adroit.  A  good  linguist, 
she  was  also  something  of  a  musician  ;  her  voice  if 
hard,  was  effective  to  those  who  admire  volume  ;  and 
above  all  she  was  an  excellent  actress,  a  gift  she  was 
wise  enough  to  exercise  where  it  is  most  certain  to 
bring  profit,  the  domestic  circle. 

Among  her  parents  guests  was  a  man  advanced  in 
years,  lean,  saffi-on-complexioned,  whose  face  was 
marred  by  the  loss  of  an  eye,  and  whose  tall  figure 
was  somewhat  spoiled  by  a  maimed  arm  and  leg.  On 
this  human  wreck  the  beautiful  and  fascinating  Maria 
Manuela  bestowed  her  sweetest  smiles,  to  him  she 
sang  love  songs  in  the  softest  tones  her  voice  would 
permit,  to  him  she  confided  her  troubles  arising  from 
the  ardour  of  impetuous  youths  to  whom  her  heart 
could  not  respond,  and  for  whom  she  had  words 
only  of  reproach  and  rejection.  For  lame  and  half 
blind,  middle  aged  and  bloodless  as  he  was,  he  was 
also  Don  Cipriano  Guzman  de  Palafox  y  Porto  Carrero, 
Comte  de  Teba,  second  son  of  the  Comte  de  Montijo 
and  grandee  of  Spain,  whose  titles  and  large  estates 
were  then  in  the  possession  of  Don  Cipriano's  elder 
unmarried  brother,  who  was  considered  a  confirmed 
bachelor. 

So  inexhaustible  is    the    egotism   of  human  nature, 


296  Zbc  IRomance  of  IRo^altg 

that  all  men  and  women  no  matter  what  their  defects, 
are  ever  willing  to  believe  they  are  beloved  for  them- 
selves rather  than  for  what  they  have  or  represent. 
Self  esteem  makes  them  easy  victims  to  the  designing, 
as  was  the  case  with  this  gallant  soldier,  who  with 
the  credulity  not  uncommon  to  those  of  his  calling, 
believed  that  Maria  Manuela  regarded  his  eyeless 
socket  and  lame  leg,  not  as  disfigurements,  but  as 
noble  proofs  of  heroism,  and  credited  her — for  a  time 
— with  loving  him  passionately.  In  spite  of  the 
opposition  of  his  family  to  whose  heartless  cynicisms 
he  remained  hopelessly  deaf,  he  proposed  to  marry 
her,  when  concealing  her  joy,  she  agreed  to  accept 
this  portion  of  a  man  as  her  lord  and  master.  As  a 
grandee  of  Spain  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  produce 
a  pedigree  of  his  future  wife,  proving  her  to  be  of 
noble  descent,  which  had  to  be  submitted  to  the  King, 
when  permission  to  marry  was  asked.  That  there 
would  be  no  difficulty  in  procuring  this,  was  a  boast 
which  William  Kirkpatrick  soon  made  good  ;  for 
a  friendly  scribe  in  the  Herald's  Office  at  Edinburgh, 
not  only  certified  to  his  descent  from  Robert  Bruce, 
but  from  that  distinguished  giant,  Fin  MacCual, 
King  of  the  Fenians  in  the  year  a.d.  200.  Beside 
the  antiquity  of  such  a  pedigree,  Comte  de  Teba, 
who  was  able  to  trace  his  family  only  to  the  reign 
of  Alfonso  XI.  (1350),  stood  abashed.  On  seeing  the 
pedigree    in    all  its    certitude    of  parchment    and  wax 


XLbc  IRomance  of  tbe  Secon&  Empire      297 

seals,  Fernando  VII.  laughed  heartily  and  irreverently, 
as  he  said,  "  Let  the  noble  Montijo  marry  the  daughter 
of  Fin  MacCual." 

Maria  Manuela  Kirkpatrick  and  the  Count  de  Teba 
were  made  man  and  wife  in  1 8 1 9,  when  anxious  to 
show  the  world  that  romance  still  survived  in  hearts 
that  were  noble,  disinterested,  and  pure,  he  took  his 
bride  to  Madrid,  and  presented  her  at  the  Court 
of  his  Sovereign.  That  it  would  have  been  better 
to  have  kept  her  far  removed  from  its  seductions 
was  one  of  the  conclusions  concerning  her  which  he 
subsequently  arrived  at.  Three  children  were  given 
to  them,  a  son  and  two  daughters — Maria  Francisca 
de  Sales,  born  January  29th,  1825  ;  and  Maria 
Eugenia  Ignace  Augustina.  At  the  time  when  the 
latter  was  born,  May  5th,  1826, — the  fifth  anniversary 
of  the  great  Napoleon's  death — her  mother  was  staying 
as  the  guest  of  her  brother-in-law  in  the  ancestral 
home  of  the  Montijos,  in  the  Calle  de  Gratia  at 
Granada.  A  shock  of  earthquake,  not  uncommon  in 
this  province,  hastened  the  entrance  into  this  world 
of  an  infant  who  was  destined  to  play  a  prominent 
part  in  its  history.  As  his  children  grew  up,  their 
father  found  some  compensation  in  their  company 
for  the  disillusions  marriage  had  so  swiftly  brought 
him.  A  common  delight  was  found  by  them  in 
hearing,  and  by  him  in  telling,  of  the  stirring  scenes 
he  had  taken  part  in  during  the  Peninsular  War  ;  of 


298  Zhc  IRomance  of  1Ro\?alt^ 

the  sudden  rousing  by  roll  of  drum  and  blare  of  bugle 
at  dead  of  night  of  weary  men  ;  of  the  mounting 
and  marshalling  of  a  vast  army  ;  of  the  storming  of 
forts  and  besieging  of  cities  ;  the  savage  rush  of  enemy 
against  enemy  ;  the  bloodshed  of  brave  soldiers  ;  the 
devastation  of  fair  countries  ;  the  maiming  of  human 
beings,  he  himself  an  example,  the  victim  of  a  gun 
that  burst  during  the  battle  of  Salamanca. 

But  above  all  he  told  them  of  the  great  Napoleon, 
the  little  man  who  had  risen  from  an  insignificant 
corporal  to  be  the  mightiest  of  monarchs,  who  had 
changed  the  face  of  Europe  and  made  its  Sovereigns 
his  subjects.  Then  there  were  stories  of  the  Emperor's 
silent  grief  at  sight  of  plains  covered  by  the  slain  ; 
of  the  mysterious  and  wonderful  influence  he  exercised 
over  men  ;  the  thrill  with  which  the  mere  sound  of 
his  voice  filled  the  hearts  of  armies  willing  to  follow 
him  to  death.  Most  delightful  of  all  was  the  account 
of  that  memorable  day  when  the  Emperor  had  with 
his  own  hand  decorated  his  brave  Spanish  soldier. 
Every  word  regarding  Napoleon,  created  an  enthusiasm 
in  the  susceptible  minds  of  these  children,  which  one 
of  them  later  on  was  to  transfer  to  his  heir  and 
successor  to  the  throne  of  France. 

The  Count  de  Teba's  income  was  limited  during  the 
first  few  years  of  his  married  life,  but  when  his  brother 
died  in  1834,  he  inherited  his  estates  and  title  as 
Comte  de  Montijo.     By  that  time  Don  Cipriano's  son 


Ube  IRoinance  ot  tbc  Sccou&  Empire      299 

had  diedj  so  that  he  was  without  a  male  heir.  It  was 
in  the  same  year — that  succeeding  the  death  of 
Fernando  VII. — that  Spain  was  writhing  in  the  horrors 
of  civil  war.  Many  of  the  wives  and  children  of 
the  Spanish  grandees  fled  from  the  country  and 
sought  refuge  in  France.  Among  them  were  the 
Comtesse  de  Montijo  and  her  two  daughters ;  the 
Count,  now  a  senator,  considering  that  duty  bound 
him  to  his  country  rather  than  to  his  wife,  agreed 
with  her  in  thinking  it  was  best  for  him  to  remain 
in  Madrid.  At  the  same  time  the  Countess's  father, 
ruined  by  the  distracted  state  of  the  country,  left 
Spain  and  went  to  America,  where  he  worked  in  lead 
mines,  and  even  then  contrived  to  make  money. 

After  travelling  through  various  parts  of  France, 
the  Comtesse  de  Montijo  and  her  daughters  settled 
in  the  capital.  Here,  among  other  distinguished  men, 
Madame  de  Montijo  made  friends  with  Prosper 
Merimee,  who  was  indebted  to  her,  among  other 
things,  for  the  plot  of  Carmen,  his  famous  novel,  on 
which  is  founded  the  libretto  of  the  still  more  famous 
opera  of  that  name.  His  devotion  to  the  Countess  was 
only  equalled  by  his  interest  in  her  daughters,  whose 
dresses  he  selected  and  whose  education  he  superin- 
tended with  all  the  affectionate  solicitude  of  a  step- 
father. Eventually  they  were  placed  in  the  convent 
of  the  Sacred  Heart  in  the  Rue  de  Varennes,  Paris,  to 
complete  their  studies,  their  mother  returning  to  Spain. 


300  XTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alti^ 

They  were  yet  in  the  convent  when  they  were 
suddenly  summoned  home  by  the  news  of  their  father's 
dangerous  iUness.  Though  they  travelled  as  fast  as 
was  possible  in  those  days,  they  did  not  arrive  at 
Madrid  before  March  15th,  1839,  the  date  on  which 
the  Count  died. 

When  the  period  usually  devoted  to  mourning  had 
passed,  his  unafflicted  widow  opened  the  doors  of  her 
salon,  to  which  her  brilliant  conversation,  her  sprightli- 
ness,  the  renown  of  her  fascinations,  drew  crowds  that 
included  members  of  the  Cortes,  passing  foreigners  of 
distinction,  the  Diplomatic  Corps,  grandees,  and  the 
leading  artists  and  literary  men  in  Madrid.  Held  on 
Sunday  evenings  at  her  house  in  the  Plaza  Angelo, 
they  were  continued  into  Monday  mornings,  the  time 
made  short  by  the  exhaustless  vivacity  of  the  hostess 
and  the  resources  of  her  entertainments,  among  which 
were  the  dancing  and  singing  of  young  people,  amateur 
theatricals,  the  hatching  of  political  plots,  the  whisper- 
ings of  piquant  Court  scandals,  and  other  ministra- 
tions to  the  weaknesses  of  humanity.  When  driven 
by  the  heat  of  summer  from  Madrid,  the  Comtesse 
de  Montijo  entertained  as  joyously  and  hospitably  at 
her  country  house  at  Carabanchel,  within  easy  distance 
of  the  capital. 

It  was  natural  that  a  leading  part  in  these  assemblies 
should  be  taken  by  her  daughters,  who  it  was  believed 
would  make  briUiant  marriages.     None  could  sing  so 


Ube  IRomance  of  tbe  Second  Empire      301 

charmingly,  dance  so  bewitchingly,  or  act  so  cleverly 
as  these  young  girls,  who  were  exceedingly  beautiful  : 
the  elder,  Maria  Francisca,  olive-skinned  and  dark- 
eyed  ;  the  younger,  Eugenia,  having  features  of  classic 
regularity,  her  dazzlingly  fair  complexion  heightened 
by  the  burnished  gold  of  her  hair,  and  by  eyes  whose 
deep  blue  darkened  to  violet  under  the  shade  of  their 
long  lashes.  Additional  attraction  was  found  in  the 
setting  of  her  shapely  head  upon  divinely  moulded 
shoulders,  and  the  superb  grace  of  her  tall  and  pUant 
figure.  Her  hands  and  feet  were  small  as  those  of  a 
child. 

That  both  should  have  many  admirers  was  only  to 
be  expected  ;  yet  among  them  there  was  but  one 
whose  ardour  seemed  sufficiently  serious  to  point 
towards  matrimony.  This  was  the  young  and  wealthy 
Duke  of  Alba  and  Berwick,  who  had  some  English 
blood  in  his  veins,  and  might  claim  Royal  descent  in  a 
left-handed  manner.  For  the  first  Duke  of  Berwick 
was  the  eldest  of  the  five  children  born  to  James  II. 
by  his  mistress,  Arabella  Churchill,  sister  of  the  first 
Duke  of  Marlborough.  James,  Duke  of  Berwick,  had 
fought  bravely  for  his  father's  rights,  and  after  the 
battle  of  the  Boyne  had  fled  to  France,  in  whose  army 
he  rose  to  a  high  position.  A  soldier  to  the  last,  he 
fell  fighting  at  the  siege  of  Philipsburg  in  1734. 
His  grandson,  the  third  Duke  of  Berwick,  married  a 
daughter  of  a  Duke  of  Alba  who  had  no  male  heirs, 


302  ubc  IRoinance  ot  IRo^alt^ 

when  both  titles  were  merged  in  the  same  individual. 
The  admirer  of  the  Comtesse  de  Montijo's  eldest 
daughter  was  the  eighth  Duke  of  Berwick  and  the 
fifteenth  Duke  of  Alba,  in  addition  to  which  he  was 
twelve  times  a  grandee  of  Spain. 

Short  of  stature,  shrunken,  of  weak  physique,  with 
a    ghastly   complexion,    a   hollow    voice,   and    an    icy 
atmosphere,    his    general    appearance    was    spectral,    as 
might    be    looked   for    in    one   who   had    been    buried 
before    he    was    born.     The    story    of    an    occurrence 
which    is    not   within    common    experience    is    briefly 
told.     For    some    months    previous    to    his    birth,   his 
mother  suffered  from  a  severe  nervous  illness,  whose 
crisis    ended    in    apparent    death.       As    was    then    the 
practice  in  Spain,  the  rings  she  had  been  accustomed 
to    wear,    presents    from    those    who    loved   her,  were 
left  on  her  fingers  when  her   apparently  lifeless  body 
was   placed   in   the  family  vault.      On  the   first  night 
that    it    rested    there   it   was    visited    by  thieves,   who 
were    determined    to   steal    her  valuable  rings.     They 
had    slipped    all    but    one    from    her   stiffened  fingers, 
but    this,   the    most    brilliant    of   her  diamonds,  could 
not    be    forced    beyond    the   knuckle  joint.     A    knife 
was    produced,    when    the    pain    of    a    severed    nerve 
passing  like  a  shock  through  the  frame  of  the  seem- 
ingly lifeless    woman,  she  sat  up  in  her  coffin,  to  see 
by  the  dim  light  of  lanterns  two  scared  figures  flying 
from    the    vault,    whose    door    they    left    wide    open. 


Ubc  IRoinancc  ot  tbe  Second  BmpU'e      303 

Through  this  she  presently  struggled  and  gained  her 
home,  into  which  she  had  much  difficulty  in  obtaining 
an  entrance  from  its  frightened  inmates.  Catalepsy 
being  but  a  supreme  effort  of  nature  to  rest  the 
nervous  system,  she  recovered  from  her  illness,  and 
in  course  of  time  gave  birth  to  an  heir,  who  through 
life  had  the  ghastly  pallor  of  one  risen  from  the 
tomb. 

Both  the  Comtesse  de  Montijo's  daughters,  radiantly 
healthy  and  supremely  beautiful,  welcomed  the  atten- 
tions of  this  cadaverous  and  wealthy  young  man,  and 
for  a  time  it  was  a  subject  of  speculation  as  to  which 
of  them  he  would  select  as  his  victim.  His  choice 
fell  on  the  elder,  who  on  the  feast  of  St.  Valentine, 
1844,  became  his  wife.  This  alliance  was  regarded 
with  the  greatest  satisfaction  by  Madame  de  Montijo, 
who  now  looked  forward  to  securing  a  husband 
equally  desirable  for  her  second  daughter.  When 
two  years  later  the  marriages  of  Queen  Isabel  and 
her  sister  the  Infanta  were  celebrated,  the  Due 
d'Aumale,  who  journeyed  with  his  brother  the  Due  de 
Montpensier,  to  Madrid,  was  fascinated  by  the  beauty 
of  the  Senora  Eugenia,  who  since  her  father's  death 
without  male  heirs  had  assumed  his  second  title,  and 
was  known  as  the  Comtesse  de  Teba.  But  as  yet  no 
offer  of  marriage  which  she  considered  worthy  of  her 
acceptance  was  made  her. 

The    Comtesse    de    Montijo    was    at    this    time    a 


3^4  tlbe  IRomance  of  IJ^ogalt^ 

prominent  figure  in  all  the  gaieties  of  the  capital, 
being  still  young  enough  to  love  pleasure,  and  old 
enough  to  be  experienced  in  all  the  subtleties  of 
intrigue.  A  flattering  compliment  that  acknowledged 
her  talents  in  this  direction  was  paid  to  her  when 
she  was  appointed  to  the  confidential  post — the 
highest  a  woman  could  hold  at  Court — of  Camarera 
Mayor,  by  Isabel,  early  in  1847,  at  the  time  when 
the  Queen-mother  quitted  Madrid  in  indignation,  and 
the  supplanted  King  Consort  retired  to  the  Pardo 
palace,  leaving  her  Majesty  and  certain  of  her 
courtiers  free  to  hold  high  revelry.  When  Isabel's 
Prime  Minister,  Narvaez,  intent  on  giving  it  an  ap- 
pearance of  respectability,  made  a  clean  sweep  of  the 
Court,  Madame  de  Montijo  lost  her  place  in  com- 
pany with  those  who  like  herself,  loved  propriety  less 
than  pleasure. 

Disdaining  to  live  in  a  city  where  the  diversions 
of  a  subject  were  interfered  with  by  a  politician,  the 
Comtesse  de  Montijo  and  her  daughter  left  Spain 
with  the  intention  of  spending  some  years  in  other 
European  countries.  Visiting  their  capitals,  mixing 
among  their  most  distinguished  societies,  and  every- 
where receiving  the  admiration  due  to  her  beauty. 
Mademoiselle  de  Teba  was  surrounded  and  followed 
by  groups  of  ardent  admirers,  among  whom  none 
that  she  was  willing  to  marry  presented  himself. 
On  the  arrival   of  herself  and  her   mother  in    Paris, 


COUNTESS    DE    MONTIJO 
(Mother  of  the  Empress  Eugenie). 


[Fncutg  page  304. 


I 


^be  IRomance  of  tbe  Second  Binpire      305 

they  found  the  city  stirred  to  inexpressible  excitement 
by  the  political  events  that  had  recently  happened 
there.  On  the  downfall  of  King  Louis  Philippe,  and 
the  proclamation  of  the  Republic  in  February,  1848, 
Prince  Charles  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  only  sur- 
viving son  of  the  great  Napoleon's  brother  Louis 
Bonaparte,  by  his  wife  Hortense,  daughter  of  the 
Empress  Josephine,  had  been  elected  a  member  of 
the  National  Assembly,  of  which  he  became  President 
on  December  20th  in  the  same  year.  Now  known 
as  the  Prince  President,  he  ruled  as  head  of  a  great 
State,  and  received  in  regal  style  at  the  Elysee  Palace, 
the  last  residence  in  Paris  of  the  great  Napoleon, 
who  had  there  signed  his  final  abdication  after  the 
battle  of  Waterloo,  but  which  was  now  the  property 
of  the  Republic. 

Profoundly  impressed  in  her  childhood  by  the 
stories  told  by  her  father  of  the  great  Napoleon,  the 
Senora  Eugenia,  Comtesse  de  Teba,  had  always  felt 
an  intense  interest  in  the  Bonaparte  family,  but 
especially  in  the  career  of  Prince  Charles  Louis,  who 
was — since  the  death  of  his  two  elder  brothers,  and 
of  the  Emperor's  son,  by  some  called  the  King  of 
Rome,  and  by  others  the  Due  de  Reichstadt — now 
the  direct  heir  to  his  Imperial  uncle.  The  fact  that 
he  had  made  two  attempts  to  mount  the  throne  of 
France,  that  as  a  result  of  one  of  his  failures  he  had 
spent    nearly    six    years    a    prisoner    in    the    citadel   of 

VOL.  I.  20 


3o6  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

Ham,  from  where  he  had  escaped  in  the  disguise  of 
a  workman,  gave  him  a  romantic  interest  in  her 
mind,  which  was  heightened  by  the  possibilities  of  his 
future.  A  yet  more  personal  note  in  her  concern 
regarding  him,  must  have  been  sounded  by  the 
common  reports  of  his  ardour,  which  represented 
him  as  being  intensely  susceptible  to  the  beauty  or 
fascinations  of  women. 

Acquainted  with  the  prominent  politicians  in  Paris, 
Madame  de  Montijo  and  her  daughter  had  no 
difficulty  in  obtaining  an  invitation  to  the  Prince 
President's  receptions,  which  were  then  presided  over 
by  his  cousin,  the  Princess  Mathilde.  It  was  at  one 
of  these  held  in  the  Elysee  Palace,  surrounded  by 
Ministers,  diplomats,  men  of  distinction,  adventurers, 
brilliant,  frail,  and  beautiful  women,  that  the  Comtesse 
de  Teba  saw  the  man  who  for  years  had  deeply 
interested  her  ;  a  portly  man  of  middle  height, 
whose  sallow-complexioned  oval  face  was  heavily 
moulded  ;  the  forehead  arched  ;  the  nose  large  ;  the 
chin  softly  rounded  ;  a  thick  moustache  covering  full 
lips  ;  his  eyes,  grey,  magnetic,  impressive,  being  the 
most  striking  feature  in  a  face  that  was  grave  and 
inscrutable  in  its  expression. 

Both  ladies  were  presented  to  him  by  Count 
Bacciocchi,  afterwards  First  Chamberlain,  whose  in- 
cessant pursuit  of  pleasure,  and  admirable  talent  in 
discovering    objects    that    afforded    fresh    emotions    to 


Ube  IRoinancc  of  tbe  Second  lEmpire      307 

the  Prince,  made  them  fast  friends.  From  the  first 
moment  they  met,  Napoleon's  deHcate  susceptibiHties 
were  impressed  by  the  extraordinary  beauty  of  the 
Comtesse  de  Teba.  Nor  was  he  unwiUing  that  she 
should  see  its  effects  upon  him.  This  however  was  not 
a  time  when  the  Prince  President  could  give  himself 
freely  to  pursuits  that  had  filled  more  than  a  fair 
share  of  his  previous  life  ;  for  at  the  moment  he 
was  drawing  near  and  nearer  to  the  fulfilment  of 
the  scheme  which  had  dominated  him  since  he  had 
become  his  uncle's  heir.  But  before  he  could  gain 
the  throne,  there  was  much  to  be  done  ;  watchful 
hostility  must  be  overcome,  oaths  broken,  and  blood 
shed. 

Although  in  December,  1848,  he  had  taken  an  oath 
saying,  "  In  the  presence  of  God,  and  before  the 
French  people  represented  by  the  National  Assembly, 
I  swear  to  remain  faithful  to  the  Democratic  Republic, 
one  and  indivisible,  and  to  fulfil  all  the  duties  which 
the  Constitution  imposes  on  me,"  this  pledge  was 
found  as  time  passed,  to  hamper  the  designs  of  one 
who  for  upwards  of  twenty  years  had  believed  it 
his  destiny  to  wear  the  Imperial  crown  of  France. 
As  might  have  been  expected,  disagreements  gradually 
arose  between  the  Republican  members  of  the  National 
Assembly  and  its  President  who  by  December  2nd, 
1 851,  found  himself  strong  enough  to  have  a  number 
of  them  arrested  unexpectedly  and  flung  into  prison. 


3o8  Ube  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

Astounded     at     this,     the    Parisians,     who     dreaded 
Imperialism,    gathered   their   forces   and  erected   barri- 
cades   that    served    as   their   slaughter   places.     In   the 
miniature    reign    of  terror    that   followed  of  the  4th, 
men    and    women,    many    of    whom   had  been  drawn 
by   curiosity    into    the   streets,  were   with    others   who 
showed  hostility,  relentlessly  shot  down  by  the  troops, 
who  it  has  been   stated  and  contradicted,  were  bribed 
by    the  President.     Notwithstanding  the  number  and 
brutality  of  the  soldiers,  the  resistance  of  the  unpre- 
pared   populace   was   so    strong,   that    at   one    time    it 
seemed   as    if   they    would    triumph.      That    this    was 
not   unexpected  by  Napoleon,   may  be   gathered  from 
the  fact  that  travelling  carriages  packed  with  luggage 
and  with  horses  harnessed,  stood  in  the  stables  of  the 
Elysee,  ready  for  an  immediate  start  if  necessary.     In 
the    official    reports    the    number    killed    by  this    coup 
d'etat  was    four    hundred  ;     the    wounded    more    than 
doubled  that  number  ;    while  the   number   imprisoned 
and  banished  mounted  to  thousands. 

Reports  were  industriously  spread  through  the 
provinces  that  the  President's  action  was  approved 
of  by  the  Parisians,  and  newspapers  that  would 
probably  make  contrary  assertions  were  suppressed. 
The  country  was  then  asked  to  vote  as  to  whether  or 
not  "  the  French  people  wills  the  maintenance  of 
the  authority  of  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  and 
delegates   to    him    the   necessary  powers    to    frame    a 


tbe  H^omance  of  tbe  ^cconb  i^mpirc      30^ 

Constitution."  As  all  knew  that  opposition  would 
not  only  be  useless,  but  create  anarchy,  a  vote  of 
over  eight  millions  confirmed  him  in  power.  Though 
it  became  arbitrary  from  that  time,  yet  he  con- 
sidered it  safer  to  feel  his  way  gradually  to  the 
throne. 

On  January  3rd,  1852,  a  proclamation  was  issued 
ordering  that  the  national  coins  should  henceforth 
bear  his  effigy  with  the  words,  "  Louis  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte "  ;  and  on  the  obverse  the  phrase,  *'  Republique 
Fran^aise."  The  National  Guard  was  disbanded  through- 
out France,  and  the  Imperial  eagle  was  set  up  in  the 
public  offices  and  institutions.  On  the  i6th  of  the  same 
month  the  President  promulgated  a  new  Constitution, 
largely  based  on  the  Code  Napoleon,  which  he  hoped 
would  give  calm  and  prosperous  days  to  the  country. 
"  May  it,"  he  said,  "  prevent  the  return  of  those 
intestine  conflicts  in  which  victory,  however  justly  won, 
is  always  dearly  purchased.  May  the  sanction  which 
you  have  given  to  my  effiDrts  receive  the  blessing  of 
Heaven.  Then  peace  will  be  assured  at  home  and 
abroad  ;  my  vows  will  be  fulfilled  ;  my  mission  will 
be  accomplished." 

In  September,  1852,  the  Prince  President  set 
out  from  Paris  on  a  tour  through  the  provinces, 
intended  to  bring  him  in  closer  contact  with  the 
people,  and  to  secure  their  tolerance  and  support 
to   his  final   step   to   the   throne.     It  was  during    this 


3io  the  l^omance  of  IRo^att^ 

journey  an  incident  happened  that  must  have  seemed 
prophetic  to  Napoleon,  who  was  an  implicit  believer 
in  omens  and  symbols,  given  by  unknown  powers  as 
heralds  or  warnings  of  good  or  evil  fortune.  The 
story  was  told  by  Lord  Cowley,  then  English  Am- 
bassador to  France,  to  Lord  Malmesbury,  who  mentions 
it  in  his  Memoirs  of  an  Ex-<Mtmster.  On  the  first 
night  of  his  progress  Napoleon  slept  at  Bourges. 
Preparatory  to  his  arrival,  the  Mayor  had  written 
out  his  instructions  to  the  people,  who  among  other 
things  were  told  to  shout  "  Vive  Napoleon  !  !  !  "  The 
three  notes  of  admiration  were  naturally  mistaken  by 
them  for  a  numeral,  and  accordingly  they  saluted  him 
with  cries  of  "  Vive  Napoleon  III."  Startled  by  this,  the 
President  sent  the  Due  de  Mortemart  to  the  Mayor 
to  know  what  it  meant.  When  it  was  explained  to 
him  he  tapped  the  Due  on  the  shoulder  saying,  "  Je 
ne  savais  pas  que  j'avais  un  Prefet  Machiaveliste." 

On  October  i6th  he  returned  to  Paris,  and  entered 
the  city  with  something  of  Royal  pomp.  Riding  a 
magnificent  chestnut  horse,  he  kept  well  in  advance 
of  his  brilliant  staff  of  generals,  of  the  members  of 
the  Senate,  and  of  the  glittering  squadron  of  cavalry 
that  met  and  conducted  him  to  the  Tuileries.  Erect 
and  fearless,  he  passed  through  dense  masses  of  people, 
his  face  wearing  the  inscrutable  expression  that  has 
been  likened  to  that  of  the  Sphinx,  his  ears  strained 
to  catch  the  cry  of"  Vive  I'Empereur,"  that  had  already 


Ube  IRomance  of  tbe  Second  Empire      311 

greeted  him  in  the  provinces.  But  for  that  cry  he 
listened  in  vain  from  the  Parisians.  Among  all  those 
who  gazed  at  him  that  day,  none  did  so  with  more 
interest  and  joy  than  Mademoiselle  de  Teba,  who  with 
her  mother  stood  in  a  window  looking  on  the  route 
of  the  procession,  in  the  apartments  of  an  ardent 
admirer  of  hers,  young  Huddleston,  of  Sawston  in 
Cambridgeshire. 

Meanwhile,  as  he  drew  nearer  to  the  throne,  he  awoke 
in  England  those  old  bugbear  fears  of  France,  that 
had  darkened  the  island  in  the  days  of  "  Boney."  As 
Foreign  Secretary,  Lord  Malmesbury  received  many 
warnings  of  an  intended  invasion  of  England,  and  even 
of  a  wicked  plot  to  "  carry  off  the  Queen  from  Osborne 
by  a  coup-de-main. ''  Lord  Hardinge,  the  Commander- 
in-Chief,  became  anxious  about  the  want  of  artillery, 
the  gun-carriages  then  in  use  in  the  army  being  the 
same  that  had  done  service  forty  years  before  at 
Waterloo  ;  Lord  Hertford,  a  resident  in  Paris,  had  a 
deep  conviction  of  Louis  Napoleon's  hostile  designs 
on  England  ;  Lord  Brougham  fussed  over  the  im- 
mediate necessity  of  preparing  our  defences  ;  Lord 
Derby  '*  mistrusted  Louis  Napoleon's  patte  de  velours  "  ; 
Disraeli,  after  a  conversation  of  over  two  hours  on 
the  national  defences  with  the  Prince  Consort,  returned 
from  Windsor  greatly  depressed  lest  the  scare  should 
destroy  his  Budget ;  and  even  her  Majesty  shared  the 
general  apprehensions. 


312  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRoi^altg 

These  distressing  rumours  were  largely  due  to 
Leopold,  King  of  the  Belgians,  brother  to  the  Duchess 
of  Kent,  and  uncle  to  Queen  Victoria,  whose  hatred 
of  Napoleon  partially  arose  from  the  fact  that  his 
Majesty  was  a  son-in-law  to  the  dethroned  Louis 
Philippe,  and  that  he  was  convinced  his  kingdom  was 
singled  out  for  attack  by  the  Prince  President.  Con- 
sultations were  held  with  foreign  Ambassadors,  and 
Cabinets  summoned  to  discuss  the  danger  which  the 
Secretary  of  War  strove  to  convince  his  colleagues 
had  no  foundation,  for  Napoleon  had  declared  his 
policy  was  one  of  peace  ;  he  had  always  shown  friend- 
liness towards  the  country  that  had  given  him 
hospitality  ;  had  never  hinted  at  revenge  for  the 
indignities  offered  to  his  uncle  at  St,  Helena  ;  and  had 
often  said  that  Napoleon's  great  mistake  was,  that  he 
had  not  made  friends  with  England. 

The  crisis  was  now  near  at  hand.  On  the  7th  of 
the  following  November,  the  members  of  the  Senate, 
with  one  exception,  voted  for  the  re-estabUshment  of 
the  Imperial  dignity  in  the  person  of  Louis  Napoleon 
Bonaparte.  It  was  added  that  this  decision  was  to 
remain  inactive  until  it  was  confirmed  by  the  voice 
of  the  nation.  When  the  Senators,  all  save  one,  sought 
the  Prince  President  to  acquaint  him  with  their  action, 
they  found  him  at  the  palace  of  St.  Cloud,  awaiting 
them  in  the  same  room  where  forty-eight  years  before 
the  Senate  of  that  date  offered  the  Imperial  crown  to 


trbe  iRomance  of  tbe  Secon&  Empire      313 

the  great  Napoleon,  This  repetition  of  history  must 
have  seemed  hke  the  veritable  working  of  fate  in  his 
behalf,  to  one  who  believed  in  his  destiny.  From 
youth  upwards  he  had  absorbed  himself  in  the  study 
of  his  heroic  uncle's  life,  and  in  speaking  to  the 
Senate  he  told  them  :  "  That  which  touches  my  heart 
to-day  is  the  thought  that  the  spirit  of  the  Emperor 
is  with  me,  that  his  genius  guides  me,  that  his  shade 
protects  me,  since  you  come  in  the  name  of  the 
French  people  to  prove  to  me  by  a  solemn  act  that  I 
have  deserved  the  confidence  of  the  country,  I  have 
no  need  to  tell  you  that  my  constant  care  will  be  to 
labour  with  you  for  the  greatness  and  prosperity 
of  France." 

On  the  2 1st  and  22nd  of  the  same  month  (November) 
the  votes  of  the  people  throughout  the  country  were 
taken  as  to  whether  or  not  they  desired  the  re-estab- 
lishment "  of  the  Imperial  Dynasty  in  the  person 
of  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  with  the  succession 
to  his  direct  descendants,  natural  and  legitimate,  or 
adopted  ;  and  gave  him  the  right  to  regulate  the 
order  of  succession  to  the  throne  in  the  Bonaparte 
family,"  The  result  was  that  close  upon  eight  million 
votes  elected  him  to  the  Imperial  throne.  On  the 
evening  of  December  ist,  1852,  an  announcement 
of  this  decision  was  officially  conveyed  to  him  by  the 
Legislative  Body,  the  members  of  the  Senate,  and  the 
Councillors  of  State   who  drove  through  a  dense  fog, 


314  tTbe  IRomance  of  1Ro\)alt^ 

which  was  scarcely  penetrated  by  the  flaming  torches 
borne  by  the  horsemen  who  guided  them  to  the  palace 
of  St.  Cloud.  On  arriving,  they  were  ushered  into 
the  Gallery  of  Apollo,  brilliantly  lighted  by  innumerable 
candles,  at  one  end  of  which  a  throne  draped  in 
crimson  velvet  had  been  erected.  At  nine  o'clock, 
the  new  made  Emperor  entered  the  gallery,  wearing 
the  uniform  of  a  General,  followed  by  his  uncle.  Prince 
Jerome,  and  by  the  latter's  son,  Prince  Napoleon. 
Standing  at  the  foot  of  the  throne,  his  Majesty  re- 
ceived several  addresses,  in  reply  to  which  he  said  : 
"  I  assume  from  to-day,  with  the  crown,  the  name 
of  Napoleon  III.,  because  the  logic  of  the  people 
in  their  acclamations  has  already  given  it  to  me, 
because  the  Senate  has  legally  proposed  it,  and 
because  the  entire  nation  has  ratified  it."  He  not 
only  recognised  the  Governments  that  had  preceded 
him,  but  he  inherited  in  a  degree  the  good  as  well 
as  the  evil  they  had  wrought  ;  for  the  Governments 
that  had  succeeded  each  other  were,  in  spite  of  their 
different  origins,  responsible  for  their  predecessors. 
"But,"  he  continued,  "the  more  readily  I  accept  all 
that  during  fifty  years  history,  with  its  inflexible 
authority  transmits  to  us,  the  less  could  I  permit 
myself  to  pass  over  in  silence  the  glorious  reign 
of  the  head  of  my  family,  and  the  regular  though 
ephemeral  title  of  his  son,  which  the  Chambers  pro- 
claimed  in    the   last   burst    of   vanquished    patriotism. 


tTbe  IRomaiice  of  tf3e  Seconb  Empire      315 

Therefore  the  title  of  Napoleon  III.  is  not  one  of 
those  effete  dynastic  pretensions  which  look  like  an 
insult  to  reason  and  to  truth  ;  it  is  homage  rendered 
to  a  Government  that  was  legitimate,  and  to  which  we 
owe  the  grandest  pages  of  our  modern  history." 
Finally  he  begged  that  one  and  all  would  help  him 
to  establish  in  a  country  troubled  by  so  many  revolu- 
tions, a  stable  Government,  based  upon  religion,  justice, 
probity  and  a  care  for  the  suffering  classes.  At  the 
same  time  he  asked  those  assembled  to  receive  his 
oath  that  no  pains  should  be  spared  by  him  to  assure 
the  prosperity  of  the  country. 

On  the  morrow  of  this  historic  evening,  his  Majesty 
received  a  letter  from  the  one  Senator  who  had 
opposed  his  assumption  of  the  Imperial  dignity. 
This  was  M.  Vieillard,  who  had  been  the  Prince's 
instructor,  adviser,  and  life-long  friend.  In  a  few 
brief  lines  the  Senator  explained  that  he  had  acted 
in  obedience  to  his  conscience  in  voting  against  the 
re-estabhshment  of  the  Empire,  and  feared  that  his 
action  must  sever  the  intimacy  that  had  bound  them. 
Napoleon's  reply  confirms  his  reputation  for  faithfulness 
and  generosity  to  his  friends.     In  this  he  said — 

*'My  dear  M.  Vieillard, — How  can  you 
believe  that  your  vote  can  influence  in  the  least 
degree  the  friendship  I  bear  you  .''  Come  to  breakfast 
on  Thursday  at  eleven  o'clock,  as  usual.  The  new 
title  which    I   shall   receive  from  the  nation  will    not 


3i6  XTbe  iRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

change    our    habits   any   more   than   it    will    alter    my 
sentiments  toward  you.     Receive  this  assurance  of  it. 

"  Your  friend, 

"  Louis  Napoleon." 

On  December  2nd,  1852,  the  Empire  was  proclaimed 
in  Paris  with  imposing  ceremony,  his  Imperial  Majesty 
entering  the  capital  at  the  head  of  his  marshals  and 
escort,  under  triumphal  arches,  to  the  thundering  of 
cannon,  the  ringing  of  bells,  and  the  shouts  of  the 
multitude.  The  next  day  he  went  on  foot  to  the 
cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  where  he  returned  thanks, 
and  where  for  the  first  time  in  fifty  years  was  sung  the 
hymn,  "  Domine  salvum  fac  Imperatorem."  He  also 
visited  the  hospitals  and  left  ten  thousand  francs  at 
each,  gave  a  free  pardon  to  all  soldiers  and  sailors 
suffering  punishment,  to  all  press  offenders,  and  to 
about  two  thousand  political  prisoners. 

When  news  of  the  slaughter  of  the  coup  d'etat, 
in  December,  1851,  reached  England,  it  produced  a 
general  feeling  of  horror.  Her  Majesty,  with  character- 
istic judiciousness,  desired  that  the  strictest  neutrality 
regarding  it  should  be  observed  by  the  Ministry,  who 
entirely  agreed  with  the  Sovereign.  They  directed  the 
Foreign  Secretary,  Lord  Palmerston,  who  was  friendly 
disposed  to  the  Prince  President,  to  prepare  a  draft 
explaining  this  to  the  French  Government.  According 
to   a  statement  made  by  the   Prince  Consort,   in    his 


Zbc  IRomance  of  tbe  Sccon&  Empire      .v7 

Life  by  Sir  Theodore  Martin,  "  the  draft  did  not  come 
for  many  days  ;  and  when  it  arrived,  Lord  Normanby, 
who  took  it  to  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs, 
M.  Turgot,  was  met  with  the  assurance  that  the 
Government  had  received  already  Lord  Palmerston's 
entire  adhesion  to  and  approbation  of  the  measure. 
The  Queen  asked  for  explanations  from  Lord  John 
Russell,  then  Prime  Minister,  who  after  having  had 
to  wait  several  days,  received  so  rude  an  answer  that 
he  had  to  send  Lord  Palmerston  his  dismissal."  It 
may  be  added  that  Lord  Palmerston  declined  to  de- 
liver up  the  seals  in  person  to  her  Majesty,  to  whom, 
after  waiting  for  some  time,  they  were  handed  by 
Lord  John  Russell.  When,  however,  the  Empire  was 
proclaimed,  the  English  Ministry  advised  her  Majesty 
to  recognise  the  Emperor.  This  counsel  meeting 
with  the  Queen's  approval,  a  few  days  later  the  English 
Ambassador  to  France,  Lord  Cowley,  presented  his 
credentials  to  the  Emperor.  One  of  the  staff  of  the 
Embassy,  Sir  Horace  Rumbold,  who  was  present  on 
the  occasion,  remarked  the  satisfaction  shown  by  his 
Majesty,  and  the  emphasis  he  laid  on  his  reply,  *'  Je 
suis  heureux,  milord,  que  I'Angleterre  soit  la  premiere 
Puissance  a  me  reconnaitre."  The  other  Powers  of 
Europe  followed  the  example  of  England  in  recognising 
him  as  Emperor,  the  one  who  held  out  longest  from 
doing  so  being  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  who,  when 
he  eventually  condescended    to  acknowledge  the   new 


3i8  Uhc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

dynasty,   refused  to  address  its  head  as  "  Mon  frere," 
a  courtesy  conceded  to  him  by  the  other  Sovereigns. 

Sufficiently  in  his  confidence  to  be  aware  of  his 
intent  to  capture  power  by  some  such  measure  as  the 
coup  d'etat^  the  Senora  Eugenia,  Comtesse  de  Teba, 
sympathised  with  his  plans,  and  through  Count 
Bacciocchi,  placed  at  Napoleon's  disposal  her  consider- 
able fortune  should  he  fail,  and  be  once  more  exiled 
from  France.  In  this  noble  generosity  the  cynical  saw 
merely  a  judicious  effort  to  lead  the  admiration  he  felt 
for  her  from  the  first  to  its  legitimate  issue,  matrimony; 
an  intention  that  formed  no  part  of  his  scheme  at  this 
time.  Her  liberality  was  not  less  than  that  already 
shown  him  by  two  other  women,  as  the  young 
Countess  was  probably  aware. 

The  first  of  these  was  his  cousin  the  Princess 
Mathilde,  daughter  of  Jerome  Bonaparte,  whom 
Napoleon  I.  had  made  King  of  Wurtemberg. 
When  yet  a  lad.  Prince  Charles  Louis  had  fallen  in 
love  with  Mathilde,  and  when  old  enough  had  pro- 
posed to  marry  her.  To  this,  consent  was  refused  by 
her  father,  who  regarded  his  nephew  as  a  hair-brained 
dreamer,  and  lost  all  faith  in  his  future  when  sentence 
of  perpetual  banishment  was  passed  on  him  for  his 
wild  attempt  in  1 840  to  upset  the  Government  of 
Louis  Philippe.  In  the  following  year  the  Princess 
Mathilde  was  married  to  the  Russian  Comte  Anatole 
Demidoff,   Prince  de  San  Donato,  a  man  of  immense 


Ubc  IRomance  of  tbe  5econ^  Empice      319 

wealth  and  of  profligate  character.  A  short  period  of 
married  life  was  sufficient  to  convince  husband  and 
wife  of  the  tragic  mistake  of  their  union.  Eventually 
the  Princess  left  her  husband,  and  appealed  to  the 
Emperor  of  Russia  to  free  her  from  his  vassal,  as 
the  laws  of  Russia  enabled  him  to  do.  On  hearing 
both  sides  of  the  case,  his  Imperial  Majesty  granted 
her  request,  and  ordered  the  Prince  to  allow  his  wife 
an  annuity  of  two  hundred  thousand  roubles.  Freed 
from  the  restraints  of  matrimony,  the  Princess  settled 
in  Paris,  where  she  devoted  herself,  among  other 
pursuits,  to  painting,  an  art  in  which  she  showed 
considerable  talent. 

Her  interest  in  art  enabled  her  to  screen  her 
interest  in  political  movements  from  the  watchful 
agents  of  Louis  Philippe  ;  for  while  entertaining  in 
more  or  less  Bohemian  fashion,  distinguished  artists, 
journalists,  foreign  visitors,  and  members  of  the 
Government,  she  was  able  to  gain  from  one  or  other 
of  them  useful  knowledge  of  the  undercurrents  that 
disturbed  the  prosperity  of  the  reign.  This  she  com- 
municated to  her  cousin.  Prince  Charles  Louis,  then 
living  in  London,  where  he  was  generally  regarded  as 
an  adventurer.  By  sharing  his  faith  in  his  destiny, 
she  strengthened  his  ambitions  ;  and  not  only  were 
her  brilliant  talents  for  intrigues  in  part  devoted  to 
his  cause,  but  she  unhesitatingly  spent  her  income 
in  paving  the  way   for    his   return   to  France,  and  in 


320  Ube  IRomance  of  TRoi^alt^ 

enabling  him  to  make  a  suitable  appearance  there  in 
the  early  days  of  the  Republic  ;  until  she  left  herself 
almost  penniless,  and  this  at  a  time  when  his  success 
and  her  repayment  were  far  from  certain. 

Ingratitude  was  not  among  Napoleon's  sins,  and 
remembering  that  she  had  been  his  helpful  con- 
federate and  liberal  creditor,  he  no  sooner  became 
Prince  President,  than  he  elected  her  to  act  as  hostess 
at  the  State  receptions  of  the  Elysee  Palace,  and  later, 
on  his  becoming  Emperor,  at  the  palace  of  the 
Tuileries  ;  her  open  intrigue  with  Nieuwerkerke  not 
unfitting  her  for  the  highest  social  position  a  woman 
could  hold. 

At  these  receptions  she  played  her  part  satisfactorily, 
for  her  conversation  was  witty,  her  appearance  dis- 
tinguished, while  her  manner  had  an  unconventionality 
that  suited  the  time  and  the  scene.  As  an  illustration 
of  one  of  these  traits,  her  answer  as  to  whether  she 
did  not  regret  the  terrors  of  the  French  Revolution 
may  be  recalled.  "  Regret  it  ?  "  said  the  Princess. 
"  Why,  if  it  were  not  for  the  French  Revolution,  I 
should  now  be  selling  oranges  in  the  streets  of 
Corsica."  As  to  the  appearance  and  toilette  of  one 
who  held  such  an  important  position  in  social  France 
at  this  time,  an  intimate  if  startling  view  is  given  in 
a  vignette-like  paragraph  of  Lord  Malmesbury's 
Memoirs.  Speaking  of  the  sensation  she  created  at 
a  fancy-dress  ball  given  at  the  Hotel  d'Albe,  he  says 


Xlbe  IRoinance  of  tbe  Secon^  Empire      321 

she  was  "  dressed  as  an  Indian,  and  had  her  skin 
dyed  brown.  Her  dress  was  of  the  scantiest,  very 
decolletee^  her  arms  bare  up  to  the  shoulders,  with 
a  narrow  band  by  way  of  sleeve  fastened  by  a  brooch. 
The  body  was  slit  under  the  arm  to  the  waist,  showing 
the  skin.  The  drapery  behind  was  transparent,  which 
she  was  probably  not  aware  of,  as  she  had  not  dyed 
her  skin  in  that  particular  place,  and  the  effect  was 
awful." 

There  was  yet  another  woman  whose  devotion  and 
generosity  to  Napoleon  were  not  less  self-sacrificing  ;  a 
woman  who  also  played  a  prominent  part  in  the  early 
days  of  the  Republic  of  which  he  was  President,  and 
of  the  Empire  of  which  he  was  ruler.  This  was  Miss 
Howard,  with  whom  he  became  acquainted  one  night 
in  the  London  streets,  where  it  was  not  uncommon 
for  him  to  encounter  his  affinities.  A  woman  of 
striking  appearance,  and  with  manners  naturally  re- 
fined, she  had  at  the  time  of  their  meeting,  quitted 
the  bar  over  which  she  had  presided  in  a  saloon  re- 
markable for  its  shadiness,  and  had  settled  down  in 
a  private  life  that  was  shared  by  a  large  and  select 
section  of  the  public.  Her  wealth  was  considerable. 
With  the  romantic  devotion  sometimes  shown  to  one 
man  by  a  woman  who  has  experience  of  many,  she 
worshipped  Prince  Charles  Louis,  at  a  time  when 
his  precarious  income  was  insufficient  to  provide  for 
his    necessities,  and  when   he   was   sorely  pressed   by 

VOL.  I.  21 


322  Ubc  IRomance  of  IRo^altg 

debts.  These  she  not  only  paid  several  times,  but 
according  to  the  Papiers  et  Correspondance  de  la 
Famille  Imperiale^  found  in  the  secret  cabinet  of  the 
Emperor  after  his  downfall,  she  freely  gave  him  her 
entire  fortune,  amounting  to  over  forty  thousand 
pounds,  which  paved  his  way  to  the  throne. 

And  not  only  was  her  money  placed  at  the  service 
of  the  man  she  loved,  but  also  her  talents  in  winning 
information  from  the  unwary  ;  for  following  him 
to  Paris,  she  frequently  disguised  herself  and  mixed 
freely  with  those  who  could  give  her  the  desired 
information  as  to  the  feelings  and  intentions  of  his 
colleagues  and  of  the  public,  towards  the  aims  of 
the  Prince  President.  Her  connection  with  and 
influence  over  him  were  not  only  recognised  and 
tolerated  by  the  depraved  Parisians,  but  also  by 
virtuous  British  subjects,  who  as  members  of  the 
English  Government,  made  use  of  them  to  forward 
their  own  interests.  In  the  unsophisticated  provinces 
of  France,  the  Prince's  liaison  with  her  was  resented, 
at  least  on  one  occasion.  This  was  when  she  accom- 
panied him  on  a  political  tour  he  made  in  1 849.  On 
arriving  at  Tours,  the  accommodation  necessary  for 
the  Prince's  suite  was  so  limited,  that  room  for  Miss 
Howard  had  to  be  found  in  the  house  of  a  M.  Andre, 
who  with  his  family  was  absent  at  the  time. 

On    his   return   he   learned    of  the    use — or   as    he 
called   it,  "  desecration  " — to  which  his  residence  had 


Ube  IRomance  ot  tbe  Seconb  Bmptre      323 

been  put,  when  he  wrote  an  indignant  letter  to  the 
Prime  Minister,  Odilon  Barrot,  speaking  of  his  griev- 
ance and  protesting  against  a  scandal  which  was  the 
custom  of  days  when  kings  flaunted  their  vice  in 
the  eyes  of  their  subjects.  On  this  being  shown 
to  the  Prince,  he  wrote  an  answer  remarkable  for  its 
frankness,  which  is  given  in  the  Memoires  d'Odilon 
Barrot.  In  this  he  said  :  "  I  confess  I  have  sought 
in  an  illegitimate  connection  the  affection  which  my 
heart  desires.  Inasmuch  as  my  position  has  here- 
tofore prevented  me  from  marrying — and  as  in  the 
midst  of  the  cares  of  Government  I  have  alas,  in  my 
country,  from  which  I  have  been  so  long  separated, 
neither  intimate  friends,  nor  ties  of  infancy,  nor  rela- 
tives, who  offer  me  domestic  intercourse — I  think  I 
may  be  forgiven  an  attachment  which  harms  none, 
and  that  I  am  careful  not  to  obtrude."  As  soon  as 
it  was  possible  for  him,  he  raised  Miss  Howard  to 
the  peerage  under  the  significant  title  of  Comtesse  de 
Beauregard,  settled  a  pension  of  two  thousand  pounds 
a  year  on  her,  which  was  secured  by  investments  in 
England  and  France,  and  presented  her  with  an  estate 
and  residence  near  Versailles  that  had  once  belonp:ed 
to  the  Bourbons. 

No  sooner  had  the  Prince  President  become  Em- 
peror, than  he  looked  round  Europe  in  search  of  an 
alliance  that  would  give  stability  to  his  new  and  isolated 
position,  and  secure  the  friendship  of  another  Power 


324  Zhc  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

to  the  Empire.  Both  before  and  durhig  his  search, 
the  beautiful  Spaniard,  the  Senora  Eugenia,  and  her 
mother,  were  his  constant  guests  at  the  dinners  and 
receptions  given  at  the  Tuileries,  and  were  his  visitors, 
among  others,  at  Fontainebleau  and  Compiegne,  where 
the  Princess  Mathilde  acted  as  hostess  and  chaperone. 
Here  the  Comtesse  de  Teba  danced,  hunted,  drove, 
and  flirted  with  Napoleon,  her  exquisite  grace  never 
seen  to  greater  perfection  than  when  in  a  ballroom, 
save  perhaps,  when  clad  in  her  eighteenth-century 
habit,  she  spiritedly  rode  the  superb  chestnut  horse 
he  had  presented  to  her. 

Always  magnificently  dressed,  supreme  in  her 
loveliness,  and  experienced  in  the  art  of  fascination, 
she  roused  a  storm  of  passion  in  the  heart  of  an 
admirer  whose  susceptibility  was  illimitable,  and  who 
was  unwilling  to  tolerate  any  hindrance  to  his  desires. 
But  always  discreet,  conscious  of  power,  practical  not- 
withstanding a  strain  of  romanticism,  mistress  of  her- 
self because  of  a  preservative  coldness  of  temperament 
that  expressed  itself  in  the  hardness  of  her  voice, 
strong-willed,  and  burning  with  ambition,  she  dis- 
dained all  proposals  that  refused  her  the  highest 
position  it  was  in  his  power  to  give  her  ;  and  when, 
selecting  for  the  mission  his  illegitimate  half-brother, 
the  Comte  de  Morny,  Napoleon  sent  her  a  paper 
bearing  his  signature,  above  which  she  was  desired 
to    write    whatever    terms  she  pleased   as    the  reward 


^be  IRomance  ot  tbe  Seconb  Empire      325 

of  her   submission,   it  was  returned  to  him  with  but 
one  word  dashed  across  its  page : — marriage. 

In  seeking  a  wife  Napoleon  first  applied  to  Don 
Francisco,  the  King  Consort  of  Queen  Isabel,  in  the 
hope  that  one  of  his  plain  looking  sisters,  the 
daughters  of  the  Due  de  Cadiz,  might  be  tempted 
to  share  the  Imperial  throne  of  France  ;  but  the 
Spanish  Bourbons  proudly  declined  the  offer.  It 
was  next  thought  probable  that  the  Russian  Princess 
Wasa  would  readily  accept  him,  but  the  Czar,  who 
spoke  of  him  as  a  "  lank-haired  adventurer,"  would 
not  sanction  the  alliance.  To  apply  to  Austria  would 
have  been  to  court  insult  ;  Portugal  had  no  marriage- 
able princesses  ;  but  there  remained  another  chance 
to  which  Napoleon  directed  his  attention.  This  union 
was  especially  desirable,  as  it  would  not  only  secure 
him  the  friendship  of  Prussia,  but  that  of  England. 
A  preliminary  step  toward  gaining  these  advantages 
was  made  on  December  I2th,  1852,  when  Count 
Walewski,  an  illegitimate  son  of  the  first  Napoleon, 
and  at  this  time  French  Ambassador  to  England,  was 
given  an  audience  by  Queen  Victoria,  and  solicited  her 
Majesty's  interest  in  the  marriage  of  Napoleon  and  the 
Princess  Adelaide  of  Hohenlohe,  a  granddaughter  of 
the  Duchess  of  Kent  by  her  first  marriage,  and 
therefore  a  niece  of  the  English  Sovereign. 

The    subject   was    mentioned    by    her    Majesty    to 
Lord   Malmesbury,  when  he  went  down  to  Windsor 


326  ubc  IRomance  of  IRo^alty 

on   the   28th  of  the   month,  and   must   have  recalled 
to    the    Foreign    Minister    the    day   when,    some   five 
years  previously.  Napoleon,  then  an  exile  in  London, 
walked   him   twice    round    Berkeley   Square,   while  he 
talked  of  his  chances  of  being  accepted  as  the  husband 
of  Lady    Clementina    Villiers,    and    received    no    en- 
couragement   from    his    hearer,    who    knew    that    her 
mother.   Lady  Jersey,  particularly    disliked    him,  and 
was  one  of  the  great  hostesses  who  closed  her  doors 
to    the    Prince.     The    Queen    read    a    letter    she    had 
received   regarding   the   marriage    from   the   Prince  of 
Hohenlohe,  to  whom   Napoleon  had  proposed  for  his 
daughter's    hand,     her     Majesty    commenting    on     it 
"  reasonably,"   hoping    the    Princess    would    not    hear 
of  it   lest  the  prospect  should  dazzle  her,  and  allud- 
ing   to    the    ill    fate    that    had    befallen    the    wives    of 
the    French    monarchs    since    the    tragedy    of    Marie 
Antoinette.       Notwithstanding    the    representations  of 
Leopold,  King    of  the  Belgians,    the   Queen   did   not 
positively  disapprove  of  the  alliance,  but  the  Prince  of 
Hohenlohe    did,  his  objections  being  founded  on  the 
religion  and  morals  of  Napoleon. 

As  there  was  no  chance  of  his  being  able  to  ally 
himself  with  any  Royal  house,  the  Emperor  resolved 
to  marry  the  one  woman  he  loved,  who  had  resisted 
him.  A  dramatic  incident  led  to  his  proposal.  At 
a  brilliant  ball  given  at  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries 
on   New    Year's    Eve,   1853,   the  Comtesse  de  Teba, 


Ube  IRoinance  ot  tbe  Sccont)  Empire      327 

whose    supreme    beauty    and    wonderful    toilettes,    no 

less    than    the    ardent    admiration    paid    her    by    the 

Emperor,  roused  the  bitter  jealousy  of  her  sex,  when 

about  to    enter  the   supper-room,  was  rudely  pushed 

aside    by   Madame  Fortoul,   wife   of   the   Minister  of 

Public  Instruction,  who  in  rebuking  her  for  attempting 

to    take    precedence,    added    some    words   that   stung. 

The    Countess    drew    aside,   wounded    and   disdainful. 

On   seeing  signs  of  mortification  in  her  flushed  face, 

the    Emperor    insisted    on    knowing    its   cause,    when 

she  told  him  she  had  received  an  insult  to  which  she 

would    not    expose    herself  a    second    time,   and   that 

he   must    not    expect   to  find    her    among    his    guests 

in  future.     He  listened  to   her  with   that   inscrutable 

expression  that  settled  like  a  mask  on  his  face  when  he 

was  deeply  stirred,  and  then  quietly,  but  in  a  tone  whose 

meaning   she  understood,   replied,   "  After  to-morrow 

none  will    dare  to    insult   you."     Next  day  a   formal 

proposal  for   her   hand   was   written    to  the  Comtesse 

de  Montijo,  which  is  still  preserved  by  her  family. 

The  first  surprise  caused  by  the  rumour  of  his 
marriage,  was  succeeded  by  a  storm  of  comment 
largely  intermixed  by  sarcasm  and  scandal.  The 
Sovereigns  of  Europe  heard  of  it  with  silent  coldness  ; 
it  was  strongly  opposed  by  his  uncle,  Prince  Jerome, 
and  by  his  cousin.  Prince  Napoleon,  who  would  have 
preferred  never  to  see  him  married,  that  he  himself 
might  remain  heir   to  the    throne    on  which  his  eyes 


328  XTbe  IRomance  of  IRo^alt^ 

had  long  been  greedily  fixed.  The  Ministers  were 
also,  with  one  exception,  grievously  disappointed  that 
he  had  not  found  a  wife  who  would  bring  prestige  to 
France  ;  but  that  one  exception  thought  the  Emperor 
showed  his  sense  in  marrying  the  woman  he  loved, 
instead  of  humbling  himself  to  a  German  princelet 
that  he  might  gain  a  wife  with  large  feet  and  a  greedy 
appetite.  As  for  the  old  nobility,  they  regarded  the 
bride-elect  as  quite  suitable  to  the  usurper  ;  while 
the  nobility  dating  from  the  First  Empire  considered 
that  instead  of  selecting  a  foreigner  and  the  grand- 
daughter of  a  merchant,  he  would  have  done  much 
better  in  wedding  one  of  their  own  daughters.  But 
no  matter  what  objections  were  raised,  or  who  sought 
to  dissuade  him  from  his  intentions.  Napoleon's  face 
retained  its  immutable  expression,  and  his  reply  was 
ever  the  same,  "  I  will  marry  the  Comtesse  de  Teba." 

It  now  became  his  desire  to  give  his  union 
all  possible  prestige,  and  for  this  purpose  one  of  his 
Ministers  was  sent  to  the  bride-elect,  to  announce  to 
her  officially  that  she  had  been  selected  by  the  Emperor 
as  his  bride,  and  to  request  that  she  and  her  mother 
would  take  up  their  residence  in  the  palace  of  the 
Elysee  until  the  ceremony  of  her  marriage  should 
take  place. 


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the  Uganda  Protectorate 

UGANDA    AND     ITS     PEOPLES 

Notes  on  the  Protectorate  of  Uganda,  especially  the  Anthropology 
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A  New  and  Cheap  Edition  of 
SIR    HARRY   JOHNSTON'S    Great    Work 
THE     UGANDA    PROTECTORATE 

ITS   PHYSICAL  GEOGRAPHY,   BOTANY,  ZOOLOGY 
ANTHROPOLOGY,     LANGUAGES     AND     HISTORY 

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LETTERS     FROM     CATALONIA 

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Twenty=Sixth  Annual  Issue 
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CONTAINING 

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MASTERPIECES    OF     ENGLISH     FICTION 

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CLASSIC     NOVELS 

will  be  published  the  best  of  the  Fiction  Works  of 

FIELDING,     SMOLLETT,     GOLDSMITH 

AND    OTHER    GREAT   WRITERS 

Each  Volume   contains   several    Illustrations   reproduced   in   exact   facsimile 
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never  before  used,  on  special  thin  opaque  paper,  and  handsomely  bound 
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The    First    Volumes   of  the    Series   will    he 
THE    ADVENTURES    OF     RODERICK     RANDOM 

By    TOBIAS    5M0LLETT 

In  One  Volume. 

THE    HISTORY    OF    TOM    JONES,    A    FOUNDLING 

By    HENRY    FIELDING 

In  Two  Volumes. 

THE    EXPEDITION     OF    HUMPHRY    CLINKER 

By    TOBIAS    SMOLLETT 
In  One  Volume. 

To   be   followed    by 
The  Adventures  of  Joseph  Andrews  .  .    Fielding 

In  One  Volume. 

The   History  of  Amelia Fielding 

In  Two  Volumes. 

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In  Two  Volumes. 


London:  HUTCHINSON  &  CO.,  Paternoster  Row 


D 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


^  JJOTIS  APR  2  8  1997 

'''^D  APR  13199713 


Series  9482 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  511922 


I 


